


We'll Rebuild the World

by SupercityCarnival



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Head of Security, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29664534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupercityCarnival/pseuds/SupercityCarnival
Summary: After the Free Navy's attack, Earth is left to rebuild. It's the most important and difficult undertaking of Chrisjen Avasarala's life. Thankfully, her faithful head of security, Bobbie Draper, is at her side.
Relationships: Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper
Comments: 40
Kudos: 54





	1. New York

**Author's Note:**

> This setup was tough and feels a little rushed. Hopefully, this story will develop nicely.

It seemed strange that one could find beauty in such devastation. The world lay in pieces, fallen like simple dominos, on ground saturated with flood waters that may never fully recede. There was dirty brown where green should be, and grey clouds were visible where a scaling cityscape had been. It was cold, colder than it would normally be this time of year, but there was no normal here anymore. Everything was broken. The cities, the forests, the sky, the ocean, the weather, all of it, broken. 

Humanity itself was broken. The population of this once magnificent city all but wiped out. The signs and smells of the dead were everywhere, a reminder that it wasn't only infrastructure that was lost. It wasn't only trees, and animals, and crumbled mountains that had been taken. Earth's people were hanging on by a thin thread. 

Still, there were some things that clung to life, fighting to reach the light. Bobbie Draper's gaze was fixed on one such thing. She observed with parted lips a tall tree towering through debris. Limbs torn from its trunk, leaves strewn about, it refused to fall. Despite the fact that every other tree around it collapsed under the impact of concrete, this one stood. It was surrounded by mangled chunks of wall and road. Pieces of rebar were driven into the base of the tree, but it stayed strong. 

Something seemed regal about it. Bobbie knew somehow that this tree had a long life left ahead of it, almost as if she could sense its will to survive. It was strange, indeed, such a beautiful thing in the midst of all this. Just a tree to most, but to the Martian, a rare thing. 

Taking in and releasing a slow breath, Bobbie centered herself, squaring her shoulders against the invisible force that always seemed to be pushing down on her here. She drew her attention from the tree to the badly damaged building far beyond it. It's iconic walls of windows were completely smashed and the entire north side was missing. Even from almost a mile away it was obvious it was hopeless to think of repairing it, much like the rest of Manhattan Island. 

Looking around, Bobbie watched as her team assembled. It was their fifth morning waking up on Earth's surface. It was supposed to be a two day trip, three at the most. They hadn't expected how limited their movement would be. Unable to use vehicles and helicopters constantly frustrated by the changing weather conditions, the team had been forced to hike through the crippled urban jungle. The Martian leader that only brought three gravity sickness pills. Now, every hour was a fight to maintain a strong exterior. She remembered people telling her she'd get used to it the first time she was on Earth. Though the sensations faded, they were never fully gone. 

They were one team of twenty when they arrived. Upon realizing how difficult it would be to complete their assignment, Bobbie made the command decision to split up. Four teams of five went in four different directions with Bobbie's team heading to their ultimate goal - the United Nations Building. 

Their objective was to assess the state of the UN's headquarters, and the surrounding areas, from the ground. Even with all the satellite intel and feedback from people already there, the Secretary-General had insisted on having her own security team take a look in person. Bobbie had argued, reasoning that it was a waste of time and resources and they had more important things to focus on, but the Secretary-General wouldn't let it go. After days of heated debate, the UNSG had outright ordered Bobbie to take a team down to the surface. 

Much to her annoyance, they'd quickly discovered there was nowhere to land a transport near the building, or anywhere in Manhattan for that matter. She and her team had been forced to walk from someplace called Newark, and of course it wasn't a straight shot. They had been forced to meander, avoiding residual flooding and mountains of debris. Finally, just after dark on the third night, they arrived at a refugee camp at the tip of Manhattan, freezing cold and starving.

The camp was a chilling sight. Filled with too many people and not nearly enough resources, the volunteers and space were stretched to the max. Bobbie had never seen such a sad thing. The defeat, fear, and depression was evident on every face. Not to mention, they had to contend with the mounting body count and no place to lay the dead to rest. It was horrific with no relief in sight. It was the third camp that Bobbie and her group had seen like this and, from what her other three teams had said via their daily radio check ins, it was just as bad all over. She was anxious to complete the assignment and get the hell out of here and back to her charge. 

Her four companions gathered with her after packing up their gear.

"Everyone get some shut eye?" Bobbie asked, looking at each of them. A couple of nods and a couple of groans was the response she received. "Yeah, me too," she replied. "Let's get on with it." 

They walked towards the building. Bobbie kept her eyes open for the engineering team she was supposed to meet there, knowing full well they might not be gone. After all, she was days behind. 

The closer they drew to the building, the quicker Bobbie's steps were. She resented being here, and was anxious to get in and get out. This wasn't her job. As head of the SG's personal security team, her job was the SG's safety, and she certainly wasn't keeping anyone safe hundreds of thousands of miles away from Luna. She shouldn't be surprised. If the Secretary-General hadn't ordered her to go, she knew she would have given in eventually. 

It was her own fault. Bobbie had asked for the post. UN security was left in tatters after the attack. The group trained especially for the SG had all been killed when Goa's plane went down. Another large percentage died on the surface. Though a huge contingent of agents was on Luna, they were less trained and functioned less connected to Earth's security team. Bobbie had seen the security issue immediately when she arrived on Luna after the attack. Always feeling a strong sense of loyalty and devotion to the Secretary-General, Bobbie instantly stepped up, asking if she could be responsible for pulling security together again. 

Up to that point, it had been General Delgado who had taken over security after the attack. Despite his misgivings about a Martian heading up UN security, he was forced to yield to the fact that he simply couldn't handle the workload in lue of the attack, not to mention the Secretary-General gave a glowing recommendation. Bobbie had been quickly confirmed by what was currently passing for a parliament. 

Her first priority has been recruitment, finding people who were eager and able to serve. In the wake of the attack on Earth, there was no shortage of people who wanted to do their part to protect Earth. On the other hand, Bobbie was constantly on high alert for anyone who would use the current chaotic state of the government to infiltrate its highest security ranks. As a result, the vetting process was taking a long time. She told herself the caution would pay off in the long run. The Secretary-General agreed. It had only been a couple of months, but Bobbie had already managed to begin recreating some semblance of a tight and regimented team. 

She'd brought twenty of them to Earth's surface almost a week ago and she regretted it every day since they landed. Even now as they approached the remnants of the United Nations Building, Bobbie knew this entire endeavor was for not. 

Yellow caution tape, along with strategically placed construction barriers ran the length of the building's foot. The structural damage was evident from outside. There was no way the interior was sound. Bobbie and her group looked around, taking it all in. She saw them from the corner of her eye taking out their handhelds to record and take notes of everything around them, as she had instructed them to do when they saw anything noteworthy. 

As they came close to what used to be the plaza leading to the primary entrance, two men in cold weather gear with UN armbands came out to meet them. 

"Agent Draper?" One of them called out. 

Slightly raising her hand as they drew nearer, Bobbie said back, "That's me." 

"'Bout time." He was clearly irritated. She didn't blame him. They were very late. 

"I apologize for the delay," she said. "We had to land in Newark." 

Surprised, he responded, "It's that bad?" 

Bobbie only nodded. She was tired and ready to get this over with. "Show me." She looked toward the degredated skyscraper. 

At that, the man looked at his teammate. Solemnly, he told her, "I don't know what the Sec Gen was hoping for, but she won't find it here." 

"I'll determine that, if you don't mind." Bobbie was firm and they begrudgingly began to move back toward the building. 

The group began what amounted to a tour of devastation. Every window shattered from the force of the shockwave that swept across the region at impact. A massive fissure crack ran the length of the lobby and evidently most of the length of the foundation. The center walls were already buckling, observable by the ceiling sagging toward the middle of the building. 

"My god." One of their companions said in a hushed tone. 

Entering a stairwell, they explored the lower floors. Room after room, floor after floor was the same. Broken windows, cracked walls, and the elements coming in. It wasn't safe for them to be here. 

Looking at the engineers, Bobbie asked, "Will it come down?" 

Hesitant to admit it and understanding the weight of the diagnosis, the lead engineer answered, "Even if the circumstances were normal, there's nothing that can be done to save her. She'll have to be brought down just to make the area safe." 

Bobbie sighed deeply. She had only spent a short time in this place, what seemed like a lifetime ago, but even in her abbreviated stay, she had gathered that this building was special. It held centuries of history. Many of the greatest politicians, diplomats, and leaders of Earth had walked these halls, her Secretary-General among them. However, it was obvious there was nothing to be done. It was time to move on, not for Bobbie, but for her charge. 

"Alright then." She looked at the two engineers. "Let's cordon off a perimeter for safety and leave it be." 

The team prepared to carry out the last task of their objective while Bobbie made her way apart from the group. Finding a lonely corner in the rubble, she pulled out her handheld and tapped. 

"Message the Old Lady." She quickly added, "Voice only," not wanting the woman to see anything in the background that would further sadden her. The device beeped, ready to record. "Ma'am, we made it to the UN tower. It's not good. I'm sorry to say it, but the rebuilding effort cannot start here like you'd hoped, not anywhere in New York for that matter. This place is too far gone." She schooled her words, not meaning to lack empathy, but too tired to be gentle. "My team needs to regroup and head back to Luna. There's nothing more we can do here." 

She wanted to say more, but what else was there? With an exhausted exhale, Bobbie tapped the button to send the message. She closed her eyes, suddenly hating that she couldn't give good news. The Secretary-General had dealt with far too much bad news. 

Pulling her coat as tightly around her as she could, Bobbie breathed in, filling her lunges and hoping the oxygen would help clear the wooziness from her mind. The gravity was getting to her. 

*******************

_Five days later_

Bobbie walked smartly through the corridors of Luna. Her first days there had been confusing, attempting to navigate the massive place. Of all people on the lunar satellite, the Martian should have been the most comfortable being underground. But Luna was far different from Mariner Valley on Mars. 

The subterranean structures on Mars had to be built with as few resources as possible. This meant shaping much of its infrastructure into the planet itself. It resulted in a unique movement to each building. They flowed into and out of the gigantic underground caverns. Not a single hallway or chamber was made in a straight line. They bent and curved and raised and fell with the natural line of the planet. That's what Bobbie was used to, organized chaos. 

On Luna, every passage looked the same. Every conference hall, every walkway, every open plaza looked similar to the last. It was a sterile and rigid design. Most of the substructures were built like a grid. If you accidentally stepped onto the wrong floor, you might not realize it for quite some time if you weren't paying attention. It had been disorienting at first. Bobbie had spent far too much time second guessing what direction she was going. 

She'd adjusted quickly, studying maps and 3D graphics, trying to learn the layout. Now, she moved easily, getting around as well as any Earther who'd been there for years. 

After arriving back on Luna, Bobbie had a short night's sleep, and was on her way to the Secretary-General's apartment. Though she hadn't slept as long as she would have preferred, it was the best sleep she'd gotten in almost two weeks. She was grateful to be back on the moon and out from under Earth's oppressive gravity. Even more so, she was glad to get back to work. Or maybe she was simply glad to get back to the Secretary-General.

Coming close to the last turn in the hallway that would take her to the right apartment, Bobbie perked up. They better be there, she thought, and they better be alert. Rounding the corner, she came in view of two security agents outside an apartment door. One was next to the door, the other a few meters down on the other side of the hall. They were both poised for movement, just in a case. Strategic positioning for two partners, just like they'd been trained. Good. 

"Agent Draper," greeted the man near the door. 

"Morning," she said back, attempting to form a cordial expression. She glanced at the agent down the hall. He simply nodded toward her. Bobbie knew that guy. He didn't like her, one of the few who disapproved of being trained by a Martian. She didn't care what he thought about her as long as he did his job, so she nodded back. 

"Good to have you back," the agent at the door said. 

Bobbie stopped short at that. She looked at him quizzically, trying to determine if he meant it. "Thank you," she replied. "It's good to be back." 

He gave an upbeat grin and Bobbie couldn't help thinking she'd just had the first almost normal coworker exchange in her life. She pulled out her handheld and reached it towards the lock on the door. She'd had a key almost immediately after she'd arrived on Luna. The lock clicked open and Bobbie went inside the apartment. 

She entered slowly, always wanting to respect the woman's privacy, even though she had told her she would be there about this time. With cautious steps, Bobbie came into the living room. Her ears caught the sound of movement from the bedroom down the hall. 

"Ma'am," she called. "I'm here." 

A most familiar and deep accent floated from the room. "I'm almost finished." 

Bobbie's lips quirked a bit, knowing her charge's affinity for looking perfect before anyone saw her. Bobbie couldn't imagine her looking anything other than perfect, and she'd seen the woman with no makeup and morning hair. She had been privy to many sides of the Secretary-General others hadn't, even before she carried that title. 

Making her way to the kitchen, Bobbie immediately began scrounging for food. There wasn't much in her own apartment, especially after her ten day trip. Her hands instinctively went to where she knew there was a special supply just for her. Opening a cabinet, she found her snacks. Bobbie snatched up an apple and a chocolate protein bar, taking a quick bite from the fruit and setting them down on the kitchen counter. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to how the same food tasted different from one planet to another. Every apple from Earth seemed like the sweetest she'd ever tasted as opposed to the more dull ones on Mars. However, Luna's supply was dwindling and unable to be replenished. Bobbie chewed slower, savoring the bite a little more. 

"Bobbie." 

Turning, the former Marine swallowed quickly, coming face to face with her charge. Chrisjen Avasarala, in a purple sari, laced with gold, hair impeccable, and smiling at her. She inhaled deeply to recover the air stolen from her lungs at the sight she had missed for too many days. 

She returned the grin. "Ma'am," she said. "It's good to see you." 

Just then, a dizziness set upon her, blurring her vision momentarily. She reached out to touch the edge of the counter for balance. Slowly closing her eyes, Bobbie sucked in deep breaths and waited for her head to stop spinning. 

"Bobbie?" Chrisjen took several concerned steps closer.

Once she was able to open her eyes, Bobbie kept her gaze to the floor and turned toward the nearby window. She remembered the lesson she learned from her first time on Earth. Look at the floor, then slowly look up to the horizon. Lifting her eyes an inch at a time until she was looking from the floor, up the wall, out the window, across Luna's dusty, grey surface, and out to the lunar horizon. 

"I'm fine," Bobbie breathed out. "Just some residual gravity sickness." She tried to sound confident, but knew her tone was thin. "Just need to steady myself for a sec," she said, gaze fixed on the thin outline of the moon's curve. 

Chrisjen inquired, "I thought you took the pills with you." 

"It was supposed to be a short trip," Bobbie explained, hoping she didn't sound bitter. "I only had a few." 

As she looked out, the feeling began to pass. The cloudiness was leaving her brain and the dizzy sensation started fading. Just as she was about to turn around, Bobbie felt slender but sure arms slip around her waist from behind. She stifled the slight gasp that tried to escape her throat. 

"I can steady you," Chrisjen said quietly, cheek against the back of Bobbie's shoulder. 

Then, Bobbie closed her eyes again, not because she was dizzy, but because this was one of the moments. It was one of the moments she lived for. They were few and far between, and they were precious beyond measure, the moments when she and Chrisjen connected on a level all their own and they were the only two people that existed. 

Bobbie lifted her hands to cover the small ones around her torso. She tilted her head slightly to the side and enjoyed the feel of Chrisjen's warmth. 

"Yes, you can," Bobbie replied softly, allowing some of her weight to lean back into the shorter woman. 

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, each one soaking in the solace the other offered. Soon, Chrisjen's thumb was stroking over the fabric of Bobbie's suit jacket at her hip. It was so comforting and so distracting at the same time. The woozy feeling had passed, but she wasn't inclined to let the moment go yet. 

Turning in Chrisjen's arms, Bobbie pulled her into a tight embrace. Chrisjen returned it and both women were wrapped around one another. Exhaling as silently as possible, the Martian did her best to hide her racing heart at being this close to Chrisjen. It seemed as though her true feelings were always a touch away from spilling over and she would be devastated to lose this relationship if Chrisjen ever found out. 

So Bobbie lived in moments like these. She would steal every soft second that Chrisjen was willing to give her, and she would do her best to forget how perfectly the woman's head fit against her shoulder when they parted. 

"I'm so sorry, Chrisjen," Bobbie whispered. 

"None of this is your fault." 

Ignoring the statement, Bobbie continued, lips against Chrisjen's hair. "I'm sorry about Earth. I'm sorry about Arjun. I'm sorry I wasn't here." 

Chrisjen pulled back to look at her, disbelieving. Expression turning to compassion, she lifted her hands to Bobbie's face. "You saved millions of lives out there. I wouldn't change that." Bobbie gave a tight nod, resisting the temptation to press a kiss at Chrisjen's palm. "And you're here now." 

When the woman offered her the smallest smile, Bobbie sighed. She always knew what to say. "Thank you." 

"No." Chrisjen finally released her. "Thank you." 

She stepped back, turning to get something from the table nearby and Bobbie extended her arm, fingertips maintaining contact until the last possible second when Chrisjen slipped too far away to touch. And then the moment was over. 

Gathering her handheld and a couple other small items, Chrisjen looked at her warmly. "Come," she said, "we need to get you to your briefing." 

Bobbie came alongside her and they headed for the door. 

********************

In a large conference room, Chrisjen's cabinet, as well as military officials, aides, and other advisors were assembled. This large group had been looking forward to a direct report from the surface and had been hanging on Bobbie's every word. She had spent much of her first night back putting together an extensive report. Scrolling through imagery her team had gathered, she observed the wide range of emotions on the faces before her. 

Everyone seemed optimistic as Bobbie first began her presentation, some even eager. However, it didn't take long for hopeful expressions to fade. As Bobbie swiped through photographs and videos of broken skyscrapers, unnatural snow storms, and overcrowded shelters the desolation became more and more evident. Then, the video she knew would be torturous came up. 

"With the body count rising," Bobbie told them somberly, "and the lack of resources and manpower, the citizens of Earth have been left to gather the dead and simply leave them in mass graves above ground."

A silent video played with image after image after image of the dead piled up, sometimes covered, sometimes not. What else could be done? They had nothing to dig with, and in the cities, they were unable to get through the rubble or even find ground to dig. 

"Some were…" Bobbie hesitated for the first time during her report. A memory of the smell came to her. Swallowing thickly, she continued. "Some were able to be burned, but not every shelter area has that capability. Unfortunately, many of the dead are unable to be recovered and have simply been left where they fell." 

She flipped quickly through the remaining images on the gruesome topic, moving on to UN Tower. As she spoke, Bobbie kept her gaze flitting around the room, measuring the responses of her listeners. Most faces morphed from one emotion to another. Some of the older military types were able to hold their countenance unreadable, though Bobbie could see the effort it was taking. 

Only one person remained unchanging throughout her talk. The Secretary-General sat stoic and unmoving. She hadn't asked a single question or made a single comment, nor had she even shifted in her chair. One thing, however, was completely evident. There was a deep sadness written across the lines of Chrisjen's face. Her eyes reflected the mourning of an entire planet, like she felt the weight of every life lost pressing on her own heart. 

Bobbie tried not to linger too long on the woman. She didn't want anyone to notice how difficult it was for her to not look at Chrisjen. 

"In short," Bobbie finished, anxious to wrap up, "the UN Tower is a total loss." 

There were groans and sighs across the room. Chrisjen was still looking at her, the same expression on her face. 

Someone asked from the back of the room, "Can it be rebuilt?" 

Bobbie glanced away from her charge. "The lead engineer on site believes it's impossible. In fact, he was adamant that it be imploded as soon as possible for safety reasons, along with several other buildings around the area."

"What about another area in Manhattan?" Another cabinet member called out. 

"Much of Manhattan is still under water," Bobbie answered matter of factly. "Without repairing the gaps in the sea wall, it will stay under water indefinitely." She needed them to understand. "It will take at least a decade to clear the debris from the current site of the UN headquarters. Another decade to build something in its place. All due respect, but Earth can't wait that long." She caught Chrisjen's eye again. "You have to let New York go." 

At that, Chrisjen finally dropped her head, if only slightly. 

"What about the refugee camps?" One of the generals inquired. "What's the security situation like?" 

Hands clasped behind her back, Bobbie told the general, "Tenuous. There isn't a lot of manpower to help and there's simply not enough food or warmth to go around. The military is maintaining control, but any kind of organized uprising could disrupt an entire region. If you want to maintain order, these citizens have to get their needs met." 

"How do you propose we do that?" The bitter inflection came from a young aide on the other side of the room. 

Bobbie stuffed her annoyance. "My job was to bring you intel," she said flatly. "It's yours to solve the problem." 

The aide scoffed. "I think it might not be as dire as you're implying. How can a Martian really know the needs of our people anyway?" 

Bobbie's blood boiled instantly. A flush crept up her neck and she clenched her hands together behind her back. "I know because while you're up here in your warm, safe ivory tower I've actually seen these people." She tried to keep her voice even, but could hear it growing stronger. "They looked me and my team in the eye and asked when help was coming. So, with all due respect to all of you, rebuilding the United Nations Building is the least of your worries because if the population of Earth is extinct you'll all be out a job anyway." 

Another conversation began with one cabinet member looking to another and asking, "Could we head west and rebuild someplace more open?" 

Bobbie injected, getting frustrated. "You're not listening. Your first priority needs to be helping the citizens of Earth now." 

Even as she said it, voices began speaking all over the room as everyone tried to think out loud what they believed the next steps should be. It was getting chaotic and Bobbie looked to Chrisjen again, discouraged. They watched each other amidst the echoes of empty words around them. Chrisjen took a deep breath and Bobbie saw strength rising in the woman. 

Chrisjen stood to her feet and practically shouted, "Enough!" 

All the chatter ceased. Everyone turned to her. A short silence hung in the air as Chrisjen made sure she had everyone's attention. 

"Listen to you," the Secretary-General said. "You're concerned about where to put a fucking building when our people are dying. Still dying, months after the attack." She took care to make eye contact as she glanced around the room. "We've been focused on the wrong thing. We wanted to rebuild as a symbol of hope, but these people don't need a symbol. They need something much more tangible." 

Squaring her jaw, Chrisjen looked at her Secretary of Agriculture. "Get in touch with people on the ground. If you don't have any, get people down there. Find food, before it all dries up." 

"Ma'am," the woman began to protest. 

"Just fucking do it," Chrisjen snapped. "It's time we all start getting back to work. We've all been stuck on this fucking rock and we've forgotten what we're supposed to be doing. Saving Earth." She looked around again. "Who's the fucking Secretary of Transportation?" 

A man who seemed much too young for the position raised his hand eagerly. "Me, Madame Secretary." 

She found him and said, "Get a team down there, find safe spaces to put these people. Move them if necessary." The young man wrote hurriedly on his handheld. "Coordinate with the structural engineers already in North America. See what they can build to house people as quickly as possible."

"Yes ma'am." The man was already rushing off to make the calls. 

Bobbie nodded. Yes, this was more like it. 

"Where's Delgado?" Chrisjen asked. 

"Here ma'am." The older general raised his hand. 

"Get more Marines down there. We have more than we need here on Luna. Get those teams the back up they need." He nodded and pulled out his device. Chrisjen turned to look around again. "Who can organize salvage teams? We need to assess what can be salvaged and reused and get it to the proper teams immediately." 

A woman in uniform called from the corner of the room near Bobbie. "I can do that, ma'am." 

"Good." With that Chrisjen looked at Bobbie. "Agent Draper, I need you to get your team back together. You're taking me down to the surface." 

Bobbie's mouth dropped open, shocked at the request. "Ma'am, I don't think that's a good idea. The situation on the surface is volatile -"

"That's why I need to be there," Chrisjen interrupted. 

The frustration from minutes before came back to Bobbie. "I really must insist-"

"I'm going." Her eyes flashed with a determination Bobbie had seen many times. She wasn't going to back down. "That's final." 

With that, Chrisjen roughly exited the room, her cabinet filing out after her and others filtering out after that. They all slowly left until Bobbie was alone in the room, recalling all the reasons why working for Chrisjen Avasarala was so difficult.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrisjen convinces Bobbie to take her to Earth.

It still made her feel out of place, how different things were on Earth or Luna than they were on Mars. On her dusty planet, well over one hundred million miles farther away from the sun, Martians lived with far less illumination. The Sol was noticeably dimmer and with much of the infrastructure being subterranean, they had simply adapted to needing less light. 

All the lighting was darker. The lights in every public place, in people's homes, government facilities, everywhere on Mars, it was all more faint. Even with the gloomier lighting, Martians could see just as well as any Earther on Earth, and far better than any Earther on Mars. 

Bobbie would never forget the first time she'd set foot on Earth. It was the most confusing thing she'd ever felt. Everything her physiology had known was turned upside down. One might have thought the change in gravity is what would have affected her most. Thankfully, all her marine training in 1G had prepared her for that. What she hadn't been prepared for was how blinding the sun would be. The white light had invaded her pupils and overwhelmed her. It was brilliant. 

There were some things about the lights the Earthers enjoyed that still bothered her though. One of those things was how vivid the light was in the gym. Every time she laid down for a set of bench presses or sit ups, the brightness hit her eyes and she reflectively squinted and her eyes often watered in response. She would never get used to this. It was irritating. 

The gym is where she worked out her frustration. Sometimes wearing herself out was the only way to calm down or to make her mind turn off. The last thing she needed was a far too bright light hitting her eyes. 

This morning, Bobbie had awoken with the weight of the previous day still on her shoulders. She came to the gym hoping lifting heavy things would alleviate the anxious feeling in her stomach. They hadn't even talked about it after the briefing. Evidently, she was expected to just fall in line. She could have said something, but she didn't bring it up. Maybe it was a force of habit from the Corp, going along with orders. But things had changed a lot since the Corp. Bobbie had changed a lot. She didn't like not being heard anymore. 

A drop of sweat found its way down her temple as she set up for another round of rear squats. Wiping it quickly, Bobbie got underneath the barbell. She lifted it off the rack and took a step back. With a purposeful breath, she bent her knees and began the set. 

Maybe Chrisjen had intended to talk to her and got busy. One rep, exhale. After all, it was clear that Bobbie was bothered by the order. Two reps, exhale. Didn't Chrisjen care that she was bothered? Three reps, exhale. They were friends, close friends. Four reps, exhale. Stop thinking about it, Bobbie told herself, just breathe. Five reps, exhale. Six reps, exhale. Seven reps, exhale. Why did Chrisjen have to be so goddamn stubborn? Eight reps, exhale. Why did she have to be so goddamn perfect? Nine reps, exhale. With a grunt on the way up, Bobbie finished her set of ten. Racking the bar again, she propped her arms on it.

She let out a hushed, "Fuck," through labored breaths. Chrisjen was stuck on her mind. 

Just then the door to the private UN security team gym opened. Bobbie pushed down a groan as the object of her thoughts entered the room. Setting her jaw, the Martian ignored the tight leggings and smooth, long ponytail the woman wore. She averted her gaze. 

Bobbie could sense the woman eyeing her, but she fixed her eyes on her own image in the mirror. Finally, Chrisjen turned to the dumbbell rack and Bobbie watched her in the mirrors. She picked up some dumbbells and started doing bicep curls. Bobbie immediately rolled her eyes. Chrisjen did bicep curls all wrong and it drove her crazy. Bobbie constantly had to correct her range of motion and the way she used her body's momentum to pull the weight rather than using just her biceps. 

Finishing a sloppy set, Chrisjen met her eyes in the mirror. Too late to turn away. Bobbie was trapped. "Come help me with these," Chrisjen calmly requested. 

It was a peace offering, Bobbie knew. Bobbie enjoyed exercise. Chrisjen did it because she had to. The rare times she was able to convince the Earther to work out with her were usually related to the times Chrisjen had done something to upset her. 

Reluctantly, Bobbie left her squat rack. There was no point in trying to fight it, the magnetic pull Chrisjen had on her. She took slow steps to where Chrisjen stood. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked down at the shorter woman. 

"You know how to do these," she said quietly. 

Shrugging one shoulder, Chrisjen replied, "Show me again." 

Unable to stop it, Bobbie felt one side of her lips turn up ever so slightly. "Grab the weights." 

Then, Chrisjen matched the tiny smile and Bobbie knew that Chrisjen knew she'd hooked her. She picked the weights back up and cleared her throat. Looking focused, she started another set. 

"Slow down," Bobbie told her and Chrisjen obeyed. Slipping behind her, Bobbie's front barely brushed against Chrisjen's back, a ghost of a touch. She put her fingertips lightly on Chrisjen's arms. "Elbows in," she said gently. Then she rested her palms on the woman's shoulders as she continued the curls. "Shoulders down." Again, the older woman made the proper adjustments. One last fix. Bobbie's hands went to lightly settle on Chrisjen's ribcage, and she could've sworn she heard the woman gasp. "Less movement through your torso," Bobbie said. 

By the end of the set, it was perfect. Chrisjen put the weights back down and turned to her. They looked at each other, Chrisjen's expression warm, Bobbie's smug. 

"So, you can listen," Bobbie joked. 

Chrisjen let out a chuckle at that. Holding her gaze, she told Bobbie, "I'm sorry I cut you off yesterday. I should have talked to you in private." 

"I don't like being brushed aside," Bobbie said firmly. "Especially by you. I think I've earned the right to be heard." 

With a slow nod and apologetic look, Chrisjen replied, "That's fair." Then she stood up straighter and took the smallest step closer. "But you do understand why I have to go down there, don't you?" 

Bobbie sighed deeply. Of course she understood. Earth was Chrisjen's. It's people were her people, and they were hurting, grieving over unspeakable tragedy. She was surprised it had taken this long for Chrisjen to insist. She'd asked to go to the surface right after Bobbie got to Luna. And the week after that and the week after that. Everyone had agreed with the Martian that it was simply too unpredictable. Every time she was forced to stay the look on Chrisjen's face grew sadder and sadder. How could Bobbie keep saying no? 

"Yes, I do," Bobbie answered. 

Chrisjen's eyes slipped closed briefly, relieved. "Then you'll take me?" 

Compassionate face firming again, Bobbie was stern. "With stipulations." Chrisjen smiled openly and Bobbie resisted the reflex to return it. She needed to make the woman understand. "I'm serious." She raised an eyebrow, emphasizing the point. Chrisjen gestured, indicating for her to continue. "I choose where." 

"Understood." The older woman acquiesced easily. 

Hands on her hips, Bobbie said, "You listen to me down there. The plans don't change unless I change them. You don't go charging off on your own, you stay with your detail."

Another step closer and Chrisjen asked slyly, "Is that all, Agent Draper?" 

Bobbie hesitated, narrowing her eyes slightly. If Chrisjen were to ever flirt with her, this was the expression she imagined on the woman's face. She pushed the thought aside and replied quietly. "No ma'am." Leaning in, she requested, "Please don't blow me off in front of a delegation like that again. I need them to respect me." 

Realizing she'd done something wrong, Chrisjen lowered her gaze. Bobbie knew she hadn't meant to disrespect her authority in matters of security. She was just used to being in charge. Looking back up to Bobbie she nodded. "Of course." 

Slowly, Chrisjen turned to leave and Bobbie's lips parted. No, not yet, she thought. "Hey." Chrisjen turned back. "Where are you going?"

"I need to get ready for work." 

"No way." Bobbie grabbed her hand and pulled her back over. "You're gonna finish this workout with me." 

Chrisjen laughed lightly, picking up the dumbbells again. Bobbie smiled at the sound and they continued working. 

********************

The next few weeks passed quickly. With preparations being made for a trip to the surface, the hours of the work day were even tighter and more full than normal. 

Bobbie had finally finished the recruitment process for her second batch of twenty agents to serve on the Sec-Gen's personal security team. Their training had begun last week. Thankfully, she had a team in place to help unlike the first group when she had been solely responsible for training them. She was ill equipped to train them well on her own. Bobbie was a good leader and people trusted her once they got to know her. But that didn't make her a good teacher. There were some things she needed help with, like procedures and logistics. Things like strategy and combat training, however, she excelled at. She was lucky to be surrounded by military personnel anxious to help, especially after the Sec-Gen had jumped all over everyone about getting their heads out of their asses and back to work. The grieving process had stunted them for a time, but the UN government was getting back into the swing of things. 

The time she didn't spend training, Bobbie spent in daily intelligence briefings and prepping for the journey to the surface. Finding the most stable location, both logistically and security wise, proved challenging. She wanted to take Chrisjen where her presence would be the most effective. She also wanted to take her where she'd be safest. 

After narrowing down their options and spending far too much time fretting over the right decision, Bobbie, along with a small team of advisors she'd gathered, settled on northern France. The massive tsunami caused by the rock that had destroyed the eastern seaboard of North America had left over eighty percent of the British Isles under water. The flooding had moved into western Europe, pushing survivors inland. There were large camps all over the countryside of France, Spain, and Belgium. With the cities largely abandoned due to safety hazards at this point, there would be a lot of travel to visit as many places as possible across the land. 

Other members of Chrisjen's cabinet coordinated the largest effort in human history to gather food, medicine, and essential items. Every ship on Luna waited for orders to take the precious cargo that had been accumulating in their hulls down to Earth. As the day of their departure drew nearer, everyone became more anxious to go. And it wasn't just Chrisjen and her cabinet making the trip. Altogether, about a thousand people from Luna would head to the surface, simultaneously landing all over the globe to deliver life saving materials. 

Of course, they had been filtering aid down to the surface ever since the attack happened, knowing it wasn't enough, but not having enough information to know what more to do and where. Communication was still difficult on the surface. The unnatural weather kicking up dust that moved thickly through the layers of the atmosphere blocked transmissions for days at a time.

It was impressive, the way Earth's leadership had stepped up under the guidance of their one true leader. Chrisjen led from the front, putting in more hours than anyone on the planning. She insisted on being personally involved with every aspect of the trip. From choosing where the teams would distribute, helping oversee the bulk manufacture of clothing on Luna, gathering all forms of life saving medicine, and putting together millions of essential packages, the Secretary-General had a hand in it all. 

Chrisjen ran herself ragged to the point Bobbie had to step in, insisting she take time to eat and sleep. That's where they were now, back at Chrisjen's apartment at Bobbie's urging. 

"You're no good to anyone if you don't take care of yourself," Bobbie chided, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table for her charge.

With a tired look, Chrisjen sat down willingly as Bobbie pushed the chair back in for her. As if not hearing the young woman's statement, she said, "I think we can get another few thousand kits made before we leave if we really push-"

"Stop it," Bobbie interrupted. Chrisjen glanced up at her mid sentence. Bobbie looked at her, sitting at the table, looking so exhausted. "You've barely slept all week. We leave tomorrow and you have to be at your best." She pulled a chair closer to Chrisjen and slowly sat down near her. "The people down there need you and you have to be alert and ready when you see them. It's going to be hard for you to see what's happened and they cannot see you break." 

Closing her eyes at that, Chrisjen dropped her head. She reached across the table and Bobbie immediately understood the gesture. Chrisjen always seemed to find comfort in touch. She gently took the offered hand in both of hers. The older woman sighed deeply, tiredly. 

"You're right," came the quiet response. 

Bobbie continued. "If they see you fall apart, they will lose hope. They need your strength, and you can't give it to them if you have none to offer." 

Leaning forward in her seat, Chrisjen reached her other hand out and grasped Bobbie's firmly. "What if I can't be what they need?" She looked at Bobbie, almost desperate. "What Earth needs."

A slow and tender smile came to Bobbie's lips. "You are the only person asking that question." 

It was true. Everyone had full confidence in Chrisjen Avasarala. Messages from the surface came constantly, asking when she would come. They wanted to see her, they needed her. They didn't ask for the military, they didn't ask for food. They asked for Chrisjen because, despite their suffering, the people of Earth knew she would come to their rescue, and she communicated back every time that she was coming. 

Chrisjen gave a weak smile in return and lightly squeezed Bobbie's hands. The young woman stayed put, giving Chrisjen as much time as she needed. She would release Bobbie's hands when she was ready. Another deep breath and her tight grip loosened. 

"Now then," Bobbie said, "we leave in the morning. You need to eat and go to bed. That's all you're doing tonight. Understood?"

Chrisjen leaned back in her chair. "Understood, Agent Draper." 

With another tiny grin, Bobbie slipped her hands away and stood. Heading into the kitchen, she said, "You know I don't cook, so it's takeout again." 

"Sounds perfect." 

Pulling a couple of plates from the warming oven, Bobbie came back to the table. Chrisjen was rubbing her neck and quickly stopped when Bobbie returned. She never wanted anyone to catch her in a weak moment, even Bobbie. 

"You okay?" Bobbie asked, setting the plates down. 

"Just tired." 

The two quietly settled in, eating their dinner with their own thoughts. Bobbie pulled out her handheld. She began checking over all the assignments she'd left her new recruits, mentally making sure she'd taken care of filling in all their training while she was gone.

Chrisjen's voice broke into her thoughts. "If I'm not allowed to work, you aren't either." 

Giving her a side eyed glance, Bobbie told her, "I need to make sure everything is in place for this new team while I'm gone." 

"You've taken care of everything. Put it down." Bobbie looked at her and gave in. She turned off the device and set it on the table. "Speaking of which," Chrisjen said, "Thank you for taking such good care of me. I know I don't make it easy." 

Bobbie slowly chewed her bite, thinking that it was actually the easiest thing in the world. She loved taking care of Chrisjen. It was the entire reason she'd asked for this post. 

Swallowing, she quietly responded. "We take care of each other, don't we?" 

Expression affectionate, Chrisjen answered, "We do." 

Looking from Chrisjen's chestnut eyes, down to her plate, and back up, Bobbie insisted, "Eat." 

She obeyed and they resumed their meal. An hour later, the apartment was cleaned up and ready for its occupant to be gone for a while. Chrisjen's bags were packed and at the front door. Bobbie had stayed until she was ready for bed, knowing that if her charge wasn't in bed when she left, she might stay up for hours. 

She watched from the bedroom door as Chrisjen collapsed onto the mattress and pulled the blankets over herself. "I'll come get you in the morning," Bobbie told her. 

Chrisjen only hummed in response. Bobbie smiled at the woman's almost already sleeping form in the bed. Part of her wanted nothing more than to crawl between the sheets next to her and run her fingers through Chrisjen's thick hair until she was asleep. She wanted to press tender kisses to the tight spots in Chrisjen's neck and shoulders until she finally relaxed. There were times like tonight when they were both so exhausted and Bobbie longed to hold the woman in her arms, knowing the closeness would comfort them both. 

But surely that would step over an unseen boundary. If Chrisjen wanted to initiate physical contact between them, Bobbie certainly wouldn't stop her. However, Bobbie knew she could never take the first step. She didn't trust herself not to push too far. 

So instead of walking over and pressing her lips to Chrisjen's temple like her instinct told her to, Bobbie simply turned the lights off and headed out the front door. 

********************

The next morning, Chrisjen woke early. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, hands neatly folded over her stomach. Today was the day she'd been longing for. Now that it was here, there was an anxiety in her belly that had her feeling more doubt than she'd ever felt in her life. 

Nothing prepared her for this. For all of her political prowess and experience, there was no playbook here. There was no gambit to follow, no precedent to site. She could only hope she was doing it right. 

Despite her drive to get down to the surface, part of her appreciated the ease of being on Luna. On Luna, she could make decisions free of emotional attachment. Sitting in the safety of the moon, it was easy to bark out orders. Do this, do that, stick to processes and procedures and the job would get done. But she knew the moment she saw the masses of people, desperate for help and depending on her, all her objectivity would go out the window. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe this was finally the situation where emotion offered more clarity than logic. 

The alarm on the nightstand suddenly sounded, giving Chrisjen a start. She tapped to turn it off. She needed to get ready. Bobbie would be here soon to get her. 

Bobbie. She wouldn't have had any hope of staying centered these last months if not for Bobbie. Chrisjen hated needing anything, especially people. People were unpredictable and had a tendency to disappoint. Not Bobbie, though. Dependable to a fault, loyal and caring, smart and unwavering, Bobbie had surprised her when she asked to reassemble Chrisjen's security team. She'd explained that such a post was a long term obligation. Bobbie hadn't flinched. Chrisjen had tried to convince her otherwise, telling Bobbie she was more needed elsewhere or should use her talents back home on Mars. 

Truth be told, she wanted Bobbie to stay more than anything. What she didn't want was for Bobbie to feel stuck. She wanted Bobbie to want to stay. Every time she looked at Chrisjen with those kind eyes and offered her arm for Chrisjen to hold as they walked the corridors of Luna, the older woman thought that perhaps the younger really did want to be here. Even more so, when Bobbie let her hand linger at the small of Chrisjen's back as she guided her into a room or the way she held her hand when they were alone made her think that Bobbie stayed out of more than just obligation. 

Sometimes when they looked at each other, Chrisjen swore she saw the same intimate feelings she held reflected in Bobbie's gaze. Every time the thought came to her, she dismissed it. Bobbie couldn't possibly want anything other than friendship. What could Chrisjen offer someone so young? The only thing she knew she could give Bobbie was all the love in her heart and there were times she longed to shower it on her, hold on to the Martian all night and tell her every reason she thought Bobbie was the most remarkable person she had ever met. 

Once again, Chrisjen pushed the thoughts aside. Looking in the mirror she checked her appearance. She'd opted for a plain, dark suit, like the other suits she had packed. No ornate clothing, not on this trip. She knew her style was loud and she absolutely meant it to be intimidating and she didn't give a fuck what anyone thought about it. Except today. The last thing she wanted was to seem pretentious or unempathetic. 

Reaching behind her head, she began the easy process of pulling her long hair into a simple side braid. She applied a small bit of makeup and went to the living room to wait. 

In the kitchen, Chrisjen passed the window and stopped short. Slowly coming back to it, she observed the planet rotating hundreds of thousands of miles away. Her brow knit into an expression of concern. The normally white clouds of Earth's atmosphere were still a thick dusty orange-brown. The whole of the planet seemed to be covered in it. When a view of the ocean peaked out, the dingy silt that invaded the water at the impact of the rocks made it almost indistinguishable from the dark sky. It would take many more months for the silt to settle. The oceanic ecosystem of the northern hemisphere would probably never be the same. 

As she stood, looking at the sight that had torn her apart for so long now, she found it difficult to imagine how anyone had survived. Many had been able to evacuate, but not everyone had that luxury. Then communications went down after the attack. It had been hell recovering what comms they had now. Statistics from the surface changed almost daily. Twenty percent of Earth's population, wiped out during the attack. Untold hundreds of millions dying soon after. Anyone with the privilege of access to space travel took it, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. 

Now, the beautiful and thriving blue-green marble was a shell. But Chrisjen refused to let it stay that way. As she stared out to her home, the anxiety she had awoken with began to subside, replaced by a resolve she hadn't felt in months. The time for sadness was passing. Now it was time for action. 

She heard the latch on the front door release. The smooth hydraulics of the door activated. It opened and Bobbie entered, hands clasped behind her back. She made her way over to Chrisjen, standing tall, and followed the older woman's gaze for a moment before looking back to her. 

"Ready to go?" Bobbie asked. 

Tearing her eyes from Earth, she looked at her guard. "Absolutely." 

********************

Hours later, they were making their descent. Their massive transport, along with a dozen others were heading toward the wide open countryside of France. At the same time, ten other teams just as large were aimed at other strategic points on the planet over every continent, going to the most concentrated areas where refugees had gathered. 

Bobbie discreetly slipped a pill into her mouth, swallowing it before anyone noticed. It should kick in just as they passed through the atmosphere. She couldn't afford to be distracted by gravity sickness. There was no telling what was in store for them down there and she needed all her senses to be alert. 

Turning in Chrisjen's direction, she found the woman doing what she'd been doing the entire trip. The Secretary-General had been diligently following up with her cabinet members and advisors, making sure everything was accounted for and ensuring that she was on the same page as everyone. Anyone else would have thought the checking and rechecking was due to Chrisjen's constant attention to detail. Bobbie knew better. Chrisjen was distracting herself from her fear of space travel. It was endearing, really. No matter how many times Chrisjen traveled outside Earth's atmosphere, it always shook her. 

As Bobbie watched her, familiar feelings fluttered inside. She observed Chrisjen's white knuckled grip on the arm of the chair, but no one else noticed because of the way Chrisjen was still able to focus on eye contact and still able to talk to everyone. She was amazing, the way she could think and multitask through emotion. Bobbie was different. She stuffed her feelings down deep and didn't allow herself to feel them. That's how she made it through difficult times. Chrisjen was stronger than her, though, and let herself feel everything while maintaining her sharp focus. It was a quality Bobbie admired. 

Soon there was a rough bumping and their transport began to shimmy about slightly. The captain came over the sound system informing them they'd entered Earth's atmosphere and would land shortly. Everyone rushed to their seats. This is when it was easy to separate those who'd spent significant time in space from those who hadn't. Some people gasped and shut their eyes tight at the turbulence. Many gripped their seats in fear.

It wasn't just the tossing around that was disorienting. This is the time when Earth's gravity began pushing down on their bodies. The sensation made it seem like you were falling faster. 

Bobbie remained standing, simply holding onto a cargo strap, perfectly comfortable. Then Chrisjen caught her eye and stiffly gestured to the chair next to her. Suppressing a grin, Bobbie easily made her way over and sat down without buckling her seatbelt. 

"This seems rough," Chrisjen commented. 

Leaning in, Bobbie explained, "It was like this when we came a few weeks ago. The atmosphere is so thick from the dust, it's making landings a little bumpier." 

Chrisjen exhaled harshly. "I fucking hate this." 

Bobbie fought the urge to offer her hand. "I know. It'll be over in a minute." 

"Distract me." 

"Ma'am?" 

"Talk to me," Chrisjen said. "About anything."

Bobbie's mind flew a hundred miles a second trying to think of something, anything, that would interest the Secretary-General. When nothing came to her, she defaulted to something she knew everything about. 

"The Screaming Firehawk is a Series 6 Sunflare produced by Proserpina Starworks. She has a supercharged Destrier-4 high velocity Epstein Drive. She's extensively tuned for acceleration…" 

Chrisjen began to chuckle beside her and Bobbie was happy the useless information had the desired effect, so she continued, "... The custom multi-injection hyper coolant units prevent thermal overload. A trio of panels extends her aft reaction control clusters as far from the center of mass as possible, allowing rapid turns and course corrections…" 

The older woman laughed and it made Bobbie smile fully. "Thank you," Chrisjen said. 

"I can tell you more," Bobbie joked. 

"I'm sure you can." 

Just then, their descent slowed and the ship decelerated. It's movement evened out and deep breaths could be heard throughout the cabin.

"That wasn't so bad," Bobbie said. 

"Fuck you," Chrisjen responded and Bobbie laughed lightly. 

A few minutes later, the ship bumped to a landing. Everyone began to stand and collect their things. Bobbie took a breath. Time to get to work. She grabbed her tactical backpack and slipped it onto her shoulders. Looking to her team, she nodded, making sure they were ready as well. They all passed an acknowledgement between them. 

"Ear pieces," Bobbie told them. 

Bobbie and the ten team members she'd brought to aid in the Secretary-General's security pulled out small cases and placed the tiny devices in their ears. After a quick sound check, Bobbie turned toward the back of the transport. The entire delegation was gathering near the large cargo doors. Bobbie had been specific that Chrisjen not be the first off. In fact, she'd insisted that the Secretary-General be one of the last off. She'd be damned if the door opened to chaos and her charge got stuck in it.

Chrisjen took up a position on the third row back. She was already craning her neck to see and the head of security knew this was a far back as she would get the woman. Bobbie stepped beside her. Pent up energy was radiating from Chrisjen. 

"What's taking so long?" Chrisjen asked.

"Nothing," Bobbie answered. "The captain is just checking in with the ground crew." Chrisjen huffed beside her. "Be patient." 

A moment later the large door creaked loudly and began to open. Chrisjen reached out, seizing Bobbie's wrist. She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. She did it several times until she released Bobbie. Smoothing out her suit jacket, Chrisjen moved forward along with the rest of the group. 

As the door fully opened, Bobbie's pupils fought the bright light. Even with Earth's sky marred by dirt and dust, it was still much more brilliant than she was accustomed too, or comfortable with. She willed her eyes to adjust. They all kept moving forward. 

By the time they stepped outside, Bobbie could almost see clearly. More than that, she felt one of the things that always most fascinated her when on Earth - a soft breeze. It swept lightly over her and through her hair. Releasing an uneven breath at the sensation, Bobbie steadied herself. 

Looking over at Chrisjen, she saw something she hadn't seen in the woman's eyes for a long time. Peace. Chrisjen was finally back where she belonged.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt rushed during my final reading. There is so much to unpack and so much detail I wish we had time to pull out from the aftermath of the attacks.

Stepping off the transport felt like stepping outside the front door of her home. Despite the strangeness of the sky and the odd scent on the air, the feel of real unfiltered oxygen filling her lungs was a most welcome sensation. A calm wind engulfed her. She'd almost forgotten what a breeze ruffling her clothes was like. 

Chrisjen's eyes darted around, immediately trying to take in as much as she could. Now that she was on the ground, she noticed that the clouds were almost a yellow tinge as the sun's rays tried to fight their way through the dust. The grass was browning, either from a lack of rain or light. They had landed in a wide open and rolling area. It would have been beautiful in a different time. Chrisjen noticed a makeshift road leading toward their landing area and retreating over a sloping ridge. That must be where the camp was located. 

A group of about a couple dozen people was walking hurriedly to meet them. It looked to be made up of military and civilian personnel. Chrisjen and her delegation waited for them. She was acutely aware of Bobbie's tall presence next to her. Taking a sideways glance, she saw the Martian eyeing those approaching. 

They came closer and Chrisjen noticed the captain's insignia on the uniform of the man in front. He wore an enthusiastic and warm expression. She moved forward to meet him. 

A few feet away, the captain made eye contact with the superior UNMC officers with her. He stopped and offered a snappy salute, which they returned. Then he quickly walked up to Chrisjen, hand extended. 

"Madame Secretary," he greeted with a smile, "it's a pleasure to have you here." He spoke loudly over the loud sound of the transports powering down. 

Chrisjen grasped his hand in both of hers, shaking it, and sincerely replied, "It is very good to be here, Captain…" 

"Matthews, ma'am." He was still goofily shaking her hand. "Thank you so much for making the trip down." 

"I should have come a long time ago." She looked down at their hands. Following her gaze, the captain quickly released her with an apologetic look. His relief at seeing them all was beyond evident. "Thank you for holding things together down here." 

"Yes ma'am. I won't lie, it hasn't been easy." 

The transports finally turned off, leaving them in the quiet of the open field. Chrisjen was eager for information. "Captain Matthews," she looked at him imploringly, "tell me everything." 

The captain's expression became emotional. He was clearly grateful for the opportunity to debrief. Chrisjen imagined he hadn't had a peer or superior to talk to since the attacks. She knew from experience that forcing yourself to be strong all the time had a wearing effect. 

"I'd love to," the captain said. He held his hand out toward the dirt road. "Come this way." 

Their large group began the trek to the camp. Chrisjen heard Bobbie speak quietly next to her. "Shaw, Harper, hoof it over that ridge and assess." Two security agents jogged ahead of them to take a look. 

"How many are in your camp?" Chrisjen asked as they walked. 

"About fifty thousand, ma'am." 

Chrisjen suppressed her surprise at the answer. It was the size of a small city. "How have you managed?" 

"Well, resources are becoming scarce," he admitted. "We've been able to establish a sort of organization within the camp." He gestured to the civilians with him. "These people are volunteer leaders." She looked at each of them. They were equally happy that it looked like help had arrived. "The camp is broken into about fifty groups of a thousand," Captain Matthews explained. "Then those groups are broken down. Every group has civilian leadership that takes care of issues within the group and delegates resources." 

Chrisjen was in awe. "You created a government?" 

"Uh, well, sort of, I guess so," he answered. 

"Led by the people," she commented. "Brilliant. I'm sure it's built a lot of trust." 

"It's not without its faults, but we didn't have a lot of choices. We only have a few hundred UN personnel here." 

"What about communications?" Chrisjen inquired. "Have you been able to connect with other camps?" 

His brow furrowed at the question, as if she should know the answer. "We have no comms, ma'am." 

"None at all?"

"All our hand held terminals are dead," he told her. "Batteries finally ran out a couple weeks ago. Our military comms equipment is spotty at best. We know there's a camp to the south, but we haven't had contact with them in a long time. If we could boost our signal we could probably reach them."

Chrisjen looked to one of her generals. "Are they deploying the power station?" He nodded at her and she went back to the captain. "We can boost your signal and charge everyone's terminals." 

The captain was shocked. He looked with wide eyes at his leadership who mirrored his look. "That would… that would be very helpful. If our people could contact someone somewhere else, maybe they can find their families, if they're alive." They continued walking and he shyly asked, "I don't want to sound ungrateful, ma'am, but what other help did you bring?"

Steps slowing, she turned to him. His desperation was clear. He was trying to cover up just how needy his camp was with propriety and a good first impression. Chrisjen appreciated his effort, and her heart went out to him. 

"We have clothing, blankets and bedding," she told him. "We have materials to build at least some kind of shelter. We brought -"

He interrupted, "Did you bring food and water?" 

Chrisjen reached out to place a hand lightly on his forearm. "Yes, captain," she said gently. "We brought food and water." The man looked as if he might cry. "We brought moisture collection machines that we'll set up for you," she told him. "It won't completely solve the problem, but it should provide drinking water for all of you." 

Whispers of joy went through the small group with the captain. They clasped hands and patted each other on the shoulder. Water, Chrisjen thought. While she's been safe on Luna with all her needs met, the people of Earth have been aching for drinking water. Her stomach sank. 

Finally, they approached the top of the ridge. Bobbie's agents were there. Evidently whatever report they had given her had been acceptable. She wasn't stopping them. Walking over the hill, the group paused at the top. 

Before them lay a tent city as far as the eye could see. It looked as if everyone had gathered what they could before a mass exodus out of the cities nearby. There was a clear infrastructure that had emerged with lines, almost like roads forming grid. Chrisjen imagined that these grids are what separated the groups the captain spoke of. Thin bands of smoke rose from random points around the tent city. To the west, a small cluster of temporary buildings stood, likely the headquarters for the UN presence here. Then, Chrisjen spotted something far in the other direction. Large, deep trenches were dug into the land. At first glance, she thought maybe they used it for trash. But as she looked closer, she realized it was quite the opposite. It was where they had been burying their dead. 

The captain must've followed her gaze because she heard him say next to her, "We've lost a lot of people." 

She sighed deeply. "I'd like to meet as many of the people here as I can." 

The captain nodded and they began the walk toward the mass of people. 

********************

The rest of the day and into the night was spent getting reacquainted with the citizens of Earth. Chrisjen made her way through the tent city, taking her time. Anyone who wanted to talk to her got to talk to her. She listened and mourned with her people. On a few occasions, she even laughed. The resilience before her was astounding. What they had done with so little was an inspiration, and the way they welcomed her was a balm for her aching heart. 

Chrisjen wasn't sure what to expect when she got to the surface. She'd prepared herself for anything. Part of her was terrified she would be completely rejected, that they'd wasted too much time on Luna and erased all trust the people had in them. Another part was afraid they would be angry and blame her for every shortcoming the UN had shown after the attack. Maybe it was her fault, maybe not, either way, she couldn't let doubt have a place right now. Yet another part of her considered that the people would simply be indifferent and too downcast to care about her presence. Open arms had been the last thing she'd expected. 

Going through sector after sector of the camp, she was met with excited people, grateful that they hadn't been forgotten. She held hands and gave hugs, much to her body guard's chagrin. The first time someone moved in to grasp Chrisjen's arm and shake her hand, she thought Bobbie was going to pounce them and put them into a choke hold. After a surprised look and hurried conversation between the two of them under their breaths in which Bobbie argued all the reasons this close proximity wasn't safe, Chrisjen has insisted she back off and let her have these moments. She knew she'd hear about it later. After all, one of Bobbie's few stipulations was that Chrisjen listen to her advice while they were here. She didn't care. Any scolding from the Martian would be worth it to be with these people.

It wasn't all happy times though. Chrisjen hadn't shed so many tears since she finally accepted Arjun's death. She heard countless stories of those who had lost loved ones. Some had lost their entire families, some spouses, siblings, parents, and even children. People told her their harrowing accounts of the day the rocks hit, what it felt and sounded like. The entire power grid in western Europe had gone down and never came back up. When they'd traveled to the larger cities for relief, they found them dark and filled with scavengers. Paris had been rocked by earthquakes from the attack that hit Asia, igniting fault lines, and remained unstable. 

There was a makeshift hospital near the city center. She visited it as a group of her aides began delivering medical supplies to the place. The doctors and nurses who ended up there, caring for the sick and injured were thrilled. They hadn't even bothered to take an inventory. They scoured the new supply for simple things like penicillin and splints, rushing off to deliver them to patients they knew needed them. 

By the end of the day, the UN delegation had managed to erect a small, but helpful power grid as well as moisture farms, and a distribution center for the aid packages they'd brought. Now, it was getting dark. Chrisjen had been on her feet all day. Her body was aching. She, her generals, some aids, along with her security team were headed to the pop up shelters they'd brought. 

Their pace had slowed with exhaustion. A group of refugees was eating their dinner by firelight. Chrisjen observed a mother reading a book to her small daughter. The sight brought a small smile to her face.

Just then, the little girl looked up and caught her eye. She beamed instantly. Jumping from her mother's lap, she rushed up to Chrisjen and her group. 

The girl shouted back to her mother in French, "Mommy, mommy, it's the Secretary-General!" 

Chrisjen's sharp mind turned on her French. She had been switching from one European language to another all day. It had been difficult and mentally wearing, but she'd never been more grateful for her parent's insistence that she learn as many languages as possible. 

The girl came excitedly up to her. Leaning down, Chrisjen told her in flawless French, "Hello, it's so good to see you." 

"I've wanted to meet you all day," the girl said. "Everyone's been talking about you."

"Well, now we've met. My name is Chrisjen." She held her hand out and the girl enthusiastically shook it. 

The girl's mother came hurrying over. "I'm so sorry, Madam Secretary." She began to shoo the girl back over to her group. 

"It's no problem," Chrisjen said. "She's a beautiful girl." 

The woman smiled widely at the compliment. "Thank you, ma'am. We're all so happy you've come." 

Suddenly, the girl ran up again. This time with her book in tow. "Madam Secretary, will you read me a story?" 

The mother looked horrified at the intrusion. "Sweetheart, I'm sure the Secretary-General has a lot of important things to do. Let's leave her to it." 

Ignoring her mom, the girl looked hopefully up at Chrisjen, book extended in her hands, blond locks framing her face. Smiling slowly from ear to ear, Chrisjen looked at the little face. 

"I can't think of anything more important I have to do," Chrisjen told the girl, who practically squealed in response. "With your permission," she asked the mother, who gratefully gestured to a seat near their fire. 

Chrisjen walked over, not caring whether her own group was annoyed at the detour or not. This was a chance she couldn't pass by. She sat down and the girl instantly climbed into her lap. Opening the book, it was difficult to see by firelight alone. 

"Bobbie…" She looked to her guard, knowing the young woman would anticipate her need. Indeed, she did. Bobbie was already walking over with a small flashlight she'd pulled from her backpack. Chrisjen took it gratefully. 

Opening the book, she began to read. After only a couple of pages, a few other children began filtering into their circle, encouraged by their parents. They gathered around her and she couldn't suppress the happy look from her face. It had been far too long since she'd read to children. 

Glancing up, Chrisjen watched as one small boy came beside Bobbie as she propped herself against an unsturdy wall. He slipped his little arms around the Martian's leg and leaned his head at her hip. Warmth filled Chrisjen's heart as Bobbie lightly rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, both of them content to listen to the story, though she knew Bobbie didn't understand a word. Still, the sight of an Earther child wrapped around a Martian seemed like one of the most important things she'd seen all day. 

Finishing the story, Chrisjen left with the promise to return the next evening. Climbing inside a vehicle that Captain Matthews was finally able to put fuel in, they were driven back to where they would stay on the top of the ridge. 

An hour later, Chrisjen was in the twelve by twelve shelter that would house her on this trip. They'd brought many of them as well and some military grade tents. The shelters were easily assembled and broken down, perfect for a trip like this where they planned on several stops. 

It was big enough for one, but two was a squeeze. That's why Chrisjen had been a little surprised when she saw the second cot upon entering. The others in her group were doubling up, though, so she assumed she would as well. Though no one seemed to have claimed the bunk yet, Chrisjen was fairly certain someone had already reserved the spot. 

There were two cots set up, along with two pop up chairs and a small space heater to ward off the chill. That was all. It was much less than Chrisjen was accustomed to and she already found herself missing the comforts of her apartment. She shook her head to herself, checking her selfishness. 

Slipping off her suit jacket, she draped it over the back of the chair. Sitting down, Chrisjen let out a long exhale. She leaned back in the chair and pulled her long braid around. Tugging the tie out, she began pulling apart the sections of hair. 

As she ran her fingers through her hair, thinking back over the day, the thin door opened and Bobbie came inside. She looked at Chrisjen while simultaneously tossing her backpack to the opposite cot. 

"Tired?" Bobbie asked, shrugging out of her own jacket. Chrisjen nodded slowly in reply, one side of her lips turning up. "What's that look for?" Bobbie inquired. 

Meeting the Martian's eyes, she quietly said, "It was a good day." 

Bobbie's expression warmed, understanding the breadth of thought underneath the simple statement. She sat down on her cot and leaned against the wall, shutting her eyes and breathing out roughly. 

"Could've been worse, I suppose," Bobbie commented. Chrisjen watched her until Bobbie opened her eyes and asked, "I didn't know you spoke so many languages." 

"Hmm," Chrisjen hummed. "It comes in handy." 

"How many do you know?" 

Chrisjen propped her head back against the wall. "About forty." She grinned as Bobbie's eyes widened. "My mother and father insisted. My father said it would make me a better politician." 

"Did it?" 

She looked at Bobbie. She appreciated how curious the young woman was about her sometimes. "Having an advantage and being better are two different things," she answered. "I think it made me a better person." She glanced away, recalling all the places she'd traveled with her family when she was young. "Immersing yourself in another culture is incredibly fascinating and, if you let it happen, the good parts of its people will stay with you." 

Seeming satisfied with the answer, Bobbie had a tiny quirk to her lips. The two women looked at each other for a moment, so tired and content to be silent in one another's company. They never felt a need to fill the silence. Quiet between them wasn't uncomfortable. They knew each other too well for that. If one had something to say, they would say it. If they didn't have something to say, even better. They were free to take in the other's encouraging presence. 

Finally, after fiddling with her things and pulling some things out of her bag, Bobbie said, "We should probably get to sleep. Tomorrow will be just as busy." Chrisjen moved to obey and Bobbie added, "You've got kids to read to again." 

Chrisjen smiled widely. "That was wonderful, wasn't it?" 

"It was adorable." 

Both women pulled their clothes off. After so much walking around and constant movement, it almost seemed as if they had to peel each layer off. Chrisjen slipped on a simple set of pajamas. Bobbie always preferred boy shorts and a sports bra. 

Chrisjen tried to control the sideways glances she kept stealing as Bobbie readied herself for bed. She watched while the taller woman pulled the tight bun from her hair. Bobbie ruffled her long hair loose and Chrisjen found herself mesmerized by the angle of her neck. Bobbie was strong and beautiful, no doubt. A person knew that just by meeting her. What Chrisjen observed in intimate times like this was the gentleness she carried. The soft lines of her body and the smoothness she moved with. She wasn't just beautiful. Bobbie was stunning. 

A sudden need to connect with her took over and Chrisjen tried to think of something to tell her, something to ask so she could hear that easy accent again. 

"How does the gravity feel?" It was all Chrisjen could think of. 

Bobbie tossed her clothing over the back of the chair. "It's alright. Not as bad as it was a few weeks ago."

"Do you think you're acclimating?" 

Pulling the blankets back on her cot, Bobbie answered, "Not unless acclimating means a constant desire to puke my guts out, no." 

Chrisjen quietly responded, "I'm sorry." She did feel a little bad. It was her fault Bobbie was down here, making her somewhat responsible for any discomfort she was in. 

Looking at her, Bobbie softened. "It's alright. It'll get better." 

The older woman optimistically added, "One day you won't even need the meds." 

Bobbie paused. "I'd have to be here for a long time for that to happen." 

"It's happened before." She remembered the long stretches Bobbie had spent on Earth before and how much she seemed to enjoy it, once she had adjusted to the gravity. 

Chrisjen held back from saying how much she liked that idea. Instead, she pulled her own blankets back. Bobbie flipped their portable lamp off. As Chrisjen's eyes adjusted to the dark, she heard Bobbie get into her small bed. 

Pulling the covers over herself, she tried to relax. She was so tired, she should've fallen asleep the second her head hit the pillow. Instead, she couldn't turn her mind off. She thought about tomorrow and about other camps they were visiting. She thought about taking a helicopter to the coast to get a better idea of the flooding. She thought about New York, then she thought about Arjun. She tried to imagine providing for your children without drinking water. Then she imagined attempting to get out of a city like Paris in the midst of endless earthquakes. 

She let out a frustrated breath a little too loudly. 

A quiet question came from the other side of the room. "You okay?" 

Trying to rest her mind, she replied, "Just can't sleep." 

"Let me know if you need anything." 

Staying quiet, Chrisjen closed her eyes. She evened her breathing with purpose, trying to relax. She remembered another time in her life when sleep had been extremely elusive. It was a time when she had been most out of her comfort zone. Strange sounds and sensations had her on alert constantly while traveling in space. Bobbie had said the same thing when she couldn't sleep on the Roci. Let me know if you need anything. 

There was something… something Bobbie had done that had comforted her a great deal. Chrisjen was a tactile person. She connected through touch. It made her feel safe. She shouldn't do what she wanted to, she knew. It wasn't fair to Bobbie. 

Making a split second decision that could very well be a bad one, she tossed the blankets off and got out of the cot. Pulling it away from the wall, Chrisjen maneuvered around it. She pushed it across the small space. It squeaked along the floor until it bumped into the cot at the opposite wall. 

"What are you doing?" Bobbie asked, propping up on an elbow. 

"Getting comfortable." 

She lined the cot up with Bobbie's and pushed the thin mattress flush against Bobbie's thin mattress. Crawling back under the blankets, Chrisjen moved close to the other woman. The Martian tensed and Chrisjen thought she might have made a selfish mistake. Then Bobbie moved her arm away from herself, silently inviting her companion closer. Chrisjen took the offered space and cuddled into the tall body, head at Bobbie's shoulder. 

They didn't move, awkwardly still, until Bobbie commented, "You're cold." 

She must've felt it on Chrisjen's fingers as her hand lay lightly on Bobbie's stomach, or maybe it was because of the chill on her cheek as it pressed against Bobbie's skin. Either way Chrisjen simply gave a tiny nod. 

Pulling at the blankets, Bobbie tugged until she had doubled up their covers. Then, she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around Chrisjen, pulling her in securely. Heart pounding at the gesture, she tried to control her breathing not wanting to give away how the closeness thrilled her. 

Chrisjen presses her lips together, smiling to herself in the dark. Her head was tucked under Bobbie's chin and the young woman rubbed gentle circles over her back. The warm skin of Bobbie's waist was under her palm and her ear could hear the Martian's heart racing. Breathing out over Bobbie's chest, she settled in. She soaked in the moment, one of those rare moments she would swear the younger woman felt the same way she did. 

It had taken Chrisjen a long time to finally admit to herself how she truly felt about Bobbie Draper. At first, it had been a simple attraction. That came easily, soon after they met. Who wouldn't be attracted to her? There was defiant fire in Bobbie that Chrisjen admired. Admiration turned into respect. It took time, but respect turned into trust, and that was something precious to Chrisjen. It earned Bobbie the right to be honest with her and speak to her with a bluntness others wouldn't dare. 

But at some point that deep trust had led to something else, something that Chrisjen hadn't quite been able to put her finger on. All she knew is that her relationship with Bobbie had become sacred to her. It was after the Ring Gates, when Bobbie was headed to Mars for an inevitable court martial, that she truly realized why. 

Bobbie had contacted Chrisjen from the Roci and Chrisjen insisted that the Roci come to Luna on UN business before taking it's prisoner to Mars. Holden and crew obeyed without question, hoping the Secretary-General would be able to help their friend in some way. Chrisjen had managed to keep Bobbie safely on Luna for months until extradition was no longer avoidable and Bobbie was ready to face her fate. 

In those months, she and Bobbie had grown even closer. Chrisjen left Earth willingly, something she'd never done, and stayed on Luna for the sole purpose of being where Bobbie was. She used the guise of work as a cover. The moment she began using deception to spend time with Bobbie was the moment she knew she was in love with the Martian. 

Of course, she understood that the young woman would never feel the same. She accepted that. Either way, Chrisjen wasn't a cheater and no matter how much she might be tempted by Bobbie's golden eyes, protective touch, and tough personality, she would never cheat on Arjun. Even if what they'd had together faded years ago, the intimate friendship and commitment was still there. However, Arjun was gone now and she was free. Still, she would never risk losing Bobbie if the feelings were unrequited. 

Voice quiet, Chrisjen finally spoke. "This always made me feel so much better when we were on the Rocinante." 

It was true. That damned trip to IO and back was Chrisjen's longest time in space. Her fear and unfamiliarity of space travel was very real. Sleep was impossible so far from Earth's safety. Bobbie had come to check on her one night. Upon seeing how unnerved the woman was, Bobbie told her to scoot over in the small bunk. She crawled between the sheets and pulled Chrisjen in without hesitation. At first, it made Chrisjen feel childish. But it only took a minute to melt into Bobbie and feel the most secure she'd ever felt in her life. They slept like that almost every night on the Roci. 

Bobbie broke into her memories. "I remember," she said softly. "I wanted you to feel as safe in space as I did." 

Her fingers moved into the thick locks of Chrisjen's hair, scratching lightly at her scalp. It sent tickles down her back and she relaxed further into her guard. "It worked." 

After a minute of easy quiet, Bobbie commented, "That was so long ago. Everything's different now." 

It was years ago, indeed. So much had happened. They'd both changed, almost becoming more like the other. "We still always seem to find our way to each other," Chrisjen observed. 

She could hear Bobbie's smile in the dark when she replied, "We do." 

It was only a few more minutes before they were both soundly asleep. 

********************

The next few days were spent getting the camp set up as best they could. More legitimate shelters were already going up. The UN comms equipment had been repaired and they now had a direct line to Luna. Clean water was being produced at the moisture farms and they had enough food to keep them going for a while. 

Chrisjen and her UN delegation were making their way through the tent city one last time. It had taken every day that they were there, but Chrisjen was able to visit every section of the place. As she was walking about with some members of her group in tow, they struck up a conversation with a group of refugees. One man asked a question she hadn't expected. 

"When will we be able to go up to Luna?" 

She looked at him quizzically. "Luna?" 

"All due respect, ma'am," he said, timidly, "you don't expect us to stay here." 

Brow furrowing, she asked him, "What would you do on Luna?" 

He answered quickly. He'd obviously already thought about it. "Find a transport to the Ring Gates, find a new place to rebuild our lives." 

Staring at him, Chrisjen was taken aback. He would leave Earth for an unknown world as if it were as simple as the grass being greener on the other side. The man seemed to weaken under her scrutiny. She didn't mean to seem so outwardly disapproving. 

Catching herself, she calmly asked, "Do you really think that would be better than rebuilding here, at home?" 

He grinned shyly. "Ma'am, my home is gone." Sudden emotion sprung to his face. "My family died in the attack. I don't have a home or a job, I've got nothing." 

Instantly, Chrisjen's frustration left. "I'm so sorry for your loss." She reached out and grasped his hand. He returned the grip, seeming grateful. "Transportation to Luna will have to be a coordinated effort." He looked disappointed. She pulled out her handheld device. "What's your name?" 

"Tom," he said. "Thomas Glenn." 

She quickly looked him up. "Tom, I'm sending you my personal contact information. If you think you truly need to go off world, I'll help you get there."

"Thank you, ma'am," Tom said, gratefully. 

Chrisjen and her group continued on. However, she was unable to shake the conversation. She looked to Captain Matthews. "Have many others talked about leaving Earth?" 

He nodded slowly, knowing the revelation would bother her. "Yes, Madame Secretary. Many people lost everything. There's nothing here for them." 

"Earth is still their home." She couldn't keep the edge from her tone. 

"But for some, there's nothing but pain here." He continued, wanting to help her understand. "Think about it - it's going to take decades to rebuild, and some things will never be the same. Asking them to stay is asking for a big commitment. Who knows how long they'll have to live like this." He gestured to the conditions around them. 

Nodding, Chrisjen was forced to admit that she did understand. Though at the same time she didn't. It had never entered her mind to rebuild a life anywhere else but on Earth. But that was easy for her to say, comfortable on Luna. 

Soon, they were back at their fleet of transports and ready to move on in their trip. 

Turning to Captain Matthews, Chrisjen told him, "Captain, it has been a privilege to see what you've done here. Thank you for sharing it with me."

He smiled at her. "It's been an honor." 

She couldn't leave without making him answer a question. "If we send transports to bring refugees off world, will you be among them?"

With a sincere expression, he answered, "Madame Secretary, I don't think I could live even a couple hundred thousand miles from Earth's sun. You won't find me on Luna, or anywhere else. I'm an Earther through and through." 

She took his hand in both of hers. "Thank you for that."

"I'm a UN officer," he said. "I'll be here for whatever you need." 

She thanked him again. Her delegation boarded their ship. The doors closed and they were ready to move on. Glancing to one of her generals, she firmly said, "Promote that man." 

The general grinned and pulled out his handheld. 

Then she looked at Bobbie, sitting next to her, and lowered her voice. "Would you stay or go?" 

Voice equally quiet, Bobbie leaned in. "I would stay with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrisjen and Bobbie continue their UN tour and continue to grow closer.

The next place they stopped felt different almost immediately. Stepping off the transport, Bobbie glanced around, gauging her surroundings. This area was much more mountainous than the last, with sweeping and steep inclines all around. It was someplace called Andorra, a state near Spain. At least Bobbie had heard of that one. She just hoped they spoke English here. Trying to assess the risk around any given situation was much more difficult when you didn't understand the language. It had taken Bobbie two days to settle down at the camp in France and trust they were safe. She was forced to rely on Chrisjen's demeanor to take the temperature of a conversation. 

They began moving in the direction of the camp when a contingent of three military vehicles began driving out to meet them. What luck to still have fuel, Bobbie thought. As the vehicles drew nearer, they seemed unconcerned with their speed. Bobbie didn't like it. She protectively put a hand around Chrisjen's upper arm, ready to pull her out of the way if need be. 

Heart rate increasing as the trucks got closer, Bobbie wondered aloud, "What the hell are they doing?" 

She pulled Chrisjen to a stop and their entire delegation stopped as well, preparing to jump out of the way. Just as Bobbie tensed to take action, the vehicles skidded to a halt, tossing dust about that hit them all in the face. 

Waving her arm in front of her, the Martian attempted to clear the space around her of the brown cloud. "Assholes," she whispered under her breath. 

Hesitantly releasing her charge's arm, she observed the driver's side door of the lead vehicle open. A burly UN officer stepped out and down to the ground. He had a smug look and Bobbie instantly recognized a man with a need to peacock. She disliked him immediately. Judging by the displeased look on the Secretary-General's face, she wasn't impressed either. 

The officer came up and the members of Bobbie's group made way for him, albeit with caution. The leaf cluster on his collar identified him as a major in the UNMC. He came to stand toe to toe with Chrisjen, who did not greet him warmly as she had Captain Matthews. 

With a thick accent, the major asked, almost sarcastically, "What brings the Secretary-General to mingle down here with the common folk?" 

Tone aloof, she responded, "Major, the UN is here to assess the needs of Earth's citizens and aid in supplying you with anything you might need." 

The major didn't respond right away. Instead he looked around the group, noticing all the officers that outranked him. "I suppose I should salute," he said. 

"Yes," Chrisjen said, coldly. "You should." 

The major gave a half hearted salute to the generals and colonels flanking the Secretary-General. Bobbie sensed the tension the lack of respect created among their ranks. This was not going to be like their last stop at all. Chrisjen simply stared at the man in a move Bobbie had seen her pull several times. She held his gaze. It only took a few seconds for some of his bluster to blow away. 

"Let me give you a tour ma'am," he said. The edge in his voice was still present.

He stepped up to get back in his vehicle. Bobbie suppressed a smirk as Chrisjen simply began to lead their group past the trucks, clearly more content to walk than be trapped in close quarters with this man. Or maybe she just wanted to make him do something he obviously didn't want to do. Whichever it was, it put Chrisjen in control of the next step and Bobbie knew that's what she wanted. It was admirable, the way Chrisjen could read a person and immediately gather how to push their buttons. With an irritated breath, the major climbed back down and hurried to walk beside her. Bobbie took note when a small squadron exited the trucks to follow. 

"How many citizens do you have here," she asked. 

"About ten thousand," he answered. "Used to be more." 

"What happened." 

"A lot of 'em died," he answered without emotion. "Some left."

"Left?" Chrisjen seemed surprised. "Why would they leave? This place is in the middle of nowhere." 

With a cool grin, he replied cryptically. "I guess they didn't like the accommodations." 

They kept walking in silence, Chrisjen clearly not wanting to hear anymore from him. Bobbie noticed that he wore a sidearm. At the last camp, the UN figures had made it a point never to wear a weapon, feeling it negated trust. This man, along with the squad following him, didn't seem to carry the same sentiment. They all had pistols and tactical knives clipped to their belts. 

Bobbie whispered into her comms to the rest of her team. "Stay sharp. I don't like this guy." Catching each of their eyes, they obviously agreed. 

Each of the security agents carried their weapons in their tactical backpacks. Out of sight, but not out of reach. It was one of Bobbie's stipulations. Chrisjen wanted a weapons free trip. The head of security argued that was a ridiculous idea considering they had no idea what they were walking into. The two had settled on concealed weapons, but they weren't to be worn. Chrisjen thought it too offensive. Of course, Bobbie had rolled her eyes at that. 

As they came near the camp, it was made up of mostly tents and simple lean tos, made of whatever raw material could be found from the land. The people were dirty and gaunt. It looked like they hadn't been eating consistently in a long time. Bobbie took a glance at the UN soldiers. They all seemed well nourished. Something wasn't adding up here, she thought to herself. 

"Are you seeing this?" She whispered to Chrisjen. 

With a tiny nod she answered, "We'll get to the bottom of it." 

The people of the camp saw them approaching. Rather than the open arms they had been greeted with previously, these people seemed almost frightened, slowly retreating into their shelters. Instead of outright voicing her concern, Chrisjen took the diplomatic approach. 

"Major," she began, "we have plenty of food, water, and clothing for all these people. We'll get a distribution center set up right away." 

He looked at her and pressed his lips together. "I appreciate that, ma'am, but everything that goes out to these people goes through our officers first. We want to keep everything fair, you understand. Any aid you have, you can pass along to my people. We'll inventory it and divvy it out." 

Treading carefully, she said, "Unfortunately, that's not how the UN is operating on this tour." 

The major began, "Well, then I'm afraid-"

"Major!" Bobbie started at the sound of one of their UN generals. General Darcey, one of Chrisjen's most trusted advisors, boomed. "The Secretary-General is being polite." His gruff voice seemed to fill the space in contrast to the proper, if not uncordial tones being used. "I suggest you do as she says." 

Eyebrows raised around the group. But not the major. His expression was hard. "Of course, general." 

They made their way toward the small complex of UN marked temporary buildings. One couldn't miss the tall chain link fence that had been erected around the cluster of buildings. Bobbie tried not to think too much of it. She may have done the same if she were in charge, after all. Who knows what this squad had been through to prompt their behavior. Other than the major, the soldiers seemed timid. None of them had even spoken yet. 

As they walked, Bobbie slipped next to a young lieutenant. "What's with the fence?" She asked quietly, hoping to keep them from being heard. 

His jaw was tense and he looked worried. "Um," he stammered. "Protection." 

"Protection?" Bobbie was skeptical. "Against what?" 

He tilted his head toward the camp. "Them." 

Looking back over the mass of people and their hovels, Bobbie shook her head. "They can barely lift a hand, much less a fist," she commented. 

As she turned back to ask another question, the man increased his pace until he was ahead of her and safely away from the conversation. Bobbie's brow knit, wondering what had him spooked. 

Approaching the largest of the buildings, the major informed them, "This is the mess hall, doubles as a conference room of sorts. Let's get down to business." 

He opened the door and Bobbie quickly moved next to Chrisjen again. She whispered near her ear, "You are not the first through that door." She was thankful when the older woman gave a tight nod. 

General Darcey made the first move, leading them all inside. Bobbie wasn't sure what catastrophe she expected, but she didn't trust this crop of soldiers. They wreaked of hiding something. Once they were inside, no one sat down. A tense silence settled over them. Everyone seemed to be assessing the situation in their own way. Bobbie noticed Chrisjen's fixed gaze and followed it to stacks upon stacks of boxed rations and supplies. It wasn't enough for the entire camp, but it certainly would have made a dent. More importantly, it was far too much for this squad alone. 

"Major," Chrisjen addressed him, eyes still on the boxes. "I hope the business you want to get down to involves divvying out, as you say, this stash of supplies to your people." 

Unphased, he said, "All due respect, ma'am, but those people out there are not my people. I am taking care of my people." He gestured to the soldiers around him.

Chrisjen's face was unreadable at the response. Bobbie could see her jaw clenching and releasing as she ground her teeth in frustration. The quiet was drawn out for another full minute until the Secretary-General spoke in a low tone. "Major, I'm going to go speak to the people out there now. I'd like it if you and your men stay here." 

She turned on her heel without waiting for a reply. She knew her entourage would have her back. The major moved to follow, but the general stopped him with a hand firmly on his chest. Bobbie positioned herself directly behind Chrisjen in case anyone got any ideas about stopping her. 

They walked outside and took long steps toward the camp. Bobbie was high alert. She spoke into her comms. "Weapons hot, but concealed," she told her team. "Half of you stay with the major, half of you on me." 

Quickly, she dropped to a knee and opened her pack. She loaded her weapon and pulled back the side, always eased by the metal sliding sound. She left it in her pack with the pocket slightly open if she needed to get to it. Standing, she rushed to catch up with her boss. 

Several of Chrisjen's aids were walking with them, anxious to do what they had come to do - help. Their security team quickly flanked them on either side, ready for anything. Suddenly, the sound of shouting was heard behind them. Bobbie's entire group stopped and sharply turned back around. 

The major was surrounded by Bobbie's agents, guns drawn, shouting at him to stand down. He had pulled his own weapon, waving it wildly. 

"Shit," Bobbie said sharply. "Everybody down," she shouted. With a hand firmly on Chrisjen's shoulder, she pushed her to the ground. "Stay with Archangel," Bobbie told those around them. She was relieved to see the way they piled around her, as they had been trained, blocking her from any possible harm. 

Pulling her weapon, she ran back toward the debacle. Agent Shaw was shouting, "Lower your weapon now!" 

But the major kept moving to where Chrisjen and her group were pressed to the ground, close to the camp. Everyone had run for shelter when the commotion started. Bobbie stopped and lifted her weapon. 

"Major, I suggest you listen to these agents," Bobbie told him, gun leveled at him. 

He kept coming. Tired of being pushed, Bobbie raised her weapon. She pulled the trigger, releasing a warning shot that had the major ducking. It was loud and it shocked everyone. It was just enough time. The agents swarmed the man, grabbing his weapon and tossing it away. Half a dozen agents wrestled him to the ground as Bobbie kept him covered with her weapon. With practiced ease, the team restrained him, tightening a set of handcuffs around his wrists. 

Agent Shaw, small as she was, pulled the man to his feet as Chrisjen made her way back over. Countenance angry, the Secretary-General looked to her general, "Arrest this man and confine him to one of our transports. He comes back to Luna with us." 

"For what?" The major demanded. 

Stepping in front of him and puffing out his chest intimidatingly, the general told him, "Conduct unbecoming… until we can think of something worse." 

He struggled against his restraints. "You can't do this!" 

Stepping past Bobbie and into the major's space, Chrisjen got in his face. "Whatever you've been doing here is over now." She looked behind him and back to the squad of UN soldiers. "And I would be concerned that none of your men are coming to your defense, major." 

She turned away and Bobbie lowered her weapon, preparing to follow. Both women stopped when they heard the major shout to them. 

"You have no idea what it's been like down here!" Chrisjen turned back. "Keeping these people in line, give 'em an inch, they take a mile." 

Defiant, Chrisjen responded, "Give them food and meet their needs, and they'll surprise you with their resilience and loyalty." 

"Give them food," the major growled, "and they will gain strength and rise up against us. Look at us. There are a dozen of us here, keeping the peace over thousands." 

"That's no excuse to descend into torture." She looked at Agent Shaw. "Get him out of here." 

The agents dragged him back toward the transports. They were all surprised to hear cheering erupt from the crowd that had formed at the camp. Everyone was looking out in their direction, obviously enthusiastic about the debacle unfolding. It was all a lot of commotion and it made Bobbie uneasy. There was a strained undercurrent that ran all through this place. Hopefully, displacing the man at the top would help, but she was unsure about making the crowd too rowdy. 

Bobbie came up beside Chrisjen. "We should question his squad. Get the extent of what's really been going on here." 

"Later." The older woman looked back toward the camp. "We need to reassure these people first." 

"Ma'am, I don't know if that's a good idea. This place isn't nearly as well organized as Captain Matthews' camp," Bobbie warned cautiously. "We don't know what kind of head space these people are in." 

Looking to the crowd, she simply answered, "Have faith in them, Bobbie." 

She began to walk toward the camp and Bobbie sighed. Chrisjen was an eternal optimist when it came to Earth's people. Bobbie would have admired it if it didn't make her job so much more difficult. She hurried after the woman, signaling the others to follow, and slipped her weapon back into her pack. 

They walked across the rocky terrain and Bobbie's gaze darted about, taking in the area. The camp was situated in a deep valley. The mountains around them were high and sharp, and they were hundreds of miles from another camp. If people had left as the major suggested, there's no way they made it far. 

Stopping several yards from where the massive cluster of shelters began, Chrisjen looked over them. They seemed hesitant to speak even though they were clearly jubilant when the major was arrested. Bobbie knew a lack of trust when she saw it, and she knew Chrisjen did too. These were the faces of neglected people. 

Gently, Chrisjen asked, "Does anyone speak for you?" 

They remained quiet and the Secretary-General didn't press. Eventually, the crowd began to move and a man could be seen making his way forward. He had well worn clothing, tousled grey hair, and a bit of soot on his cheek. But the crowd seemed to respect him. He came to stand before them.

"Madam Avasarala?" The man inquired quietly. 

"Yes sir," she said, expression friendly. 

He watched her for a moment, as if sizing up her intentions. Bobbie tried to do as Chrisjen had instructed and trust him, but the tension in her muscles still had her on guard. Her arm was slightly extended to her charge, waiting, poised to intervene the second it was necessary. 

Finally, he seemed satisfied. "My name is Daniel," he informed them. "I'm… I was the mayor of Andorra." He was sad at making the correction. 

"Just over that mountain," Chrisjen pointed to the sprawling mountain near them. "I've been there. It's beautiful." 

With parted lips, Daniel turned to the mass of people behind him. A mournful look passed among them and Bobbie realized that the fallout from the attacks hadn't left a corner of the world untouched, even high up here in the mountain ranges of western Europe. Still, there was no sign of aggression between them. She allowed her stance to soften. 

"Yes, well," he told them, "it's a little worse for wear these days. We could have stayed but we ran out supplies. Our water was cut off somehow. We didn't have the resources to fix it." 

"And you came here for help," Chrisjen prompted. 

"That's right."

Bobbie asked, "What happened here?" 

Daniel paused. "The man you arrested just now did not treat these people well. He hoarded food and resources. We've barely been getting by. The nearest water source is miles away."

The injustice of it turned Bobbie's stomach. On Mars, she had been angered to find out how deep the well of deceit and betrayal went. Hell, in a lot of ways, Mars was responsible for all this destruction. She shouldn't be surprised that bad apples existed in the UNMC as well. Though, Chrisjen always held Earth to a higher standard. But this disaster had shaken Earth and its people to their core. Clearly, some of them were going to take advantage of the less fortunate. 

"Daniel," Chrisjen said, "we are here to help." 

The man walked forward, covering the few meters between them, hand outstretched. Chrisjen responded, reaching out to him. The two leaders shook hands, Daniel almost in tears. 

"Thank you, Madam Secretary." 

"This is General Darcey," she told him, turning behind her, signaling the man to come to them. "He is coordinating our aid teams. We have everything you need." She put a gentle hand on Daniel's arm. "Are you willing to be responsible for these people and take point on the civilian side of things?" 

Daniel looked back to a smaller group of people at the front of his camp. They seemed encouraging. "Yes ma'am." He looked at her with a bright smile. 

Soon, Daniel and a few of those he trusted were helping the UN set up a distribution center as well as another small power grid, water stations, and better shelters established for the camp of thousands. 

Chrisjen was making her way through the camp, as she had done at the last one. She insisted on meeting as many as she could. She answered questions, listened to stories, and gave out more hugs. Bobbie slowly relaxed, allowing her guard to drop, if only a bit. Chrisjen's safety was always her first priority. Maybe because she'd been protecting the woman since early on in their relationship. It always seemed so natural to slip back into the role of guardian. And, because of her military training, it was hard not to be suspicious. Sometimes it seemed that the times she and Chrisjen were alone were the only times she truly let her shield down. She could count on one hand the people she trusted. 

Toward the end of the day Bobbie, Chrisjen, and General Darcey made their way back to the UN barracks where the major's men were being supervised by Bobbie's agents. They meant to interrogate them, though Chrisjen insisted on the word interview. They cracked immediately, telling of every insidious thing the major had done from holding back food and water in the name of rationing to refusing to allow the refugees to return to Andorra, supposedly for their own safety. 

Bobbie asked every one of them why no one stood up to the man. They all had the same response - they were terrified after the attacks and in need of guidance. Being cut off from the UN meant the major was the one in charge according to the chain of command. They didn't know what to do. To Bobbie, it was unacceptable. 

"Think of how young all these men are," Chrisjen had reasoned with her. "It was an impossible situation."

"And…" Bobbie replied sarcastically. 

With a gentle smile, Chrisjen reminded her, "You're the same age as most of them. Everything is black and white when you're young. But there are grey tones to almost everything." 

"You're giving them an excuse." It frustrated Bobbie, the way Chrisjen seemed okay with pardoning what happened here. 

But she countered. "Absolutely not. I'm giving them grace," she said, tone understanding.

Bobbie rolled her eyes. "There needs to be accountability for what happened here." 

Chrisjen opened her mouth to speak again, but Bobbie was done. She turned on her heel and walked out of the tiny building, effectively ending the conversation. 

********************

Now, the day was drawing to a close. Bobbie had finished helping set up their group's pop up shelters. She tossed her pack at one side of one of the shelters, then placed Chrisjen's bag on the opposite end. She could never stay frustrated with the woman. Bobbie had retrieved her charge's things from the transport to bring them here. Laying them lightly on the cot, she realized she had gotten them and brought them into the shelter they shared just in case Chrisjen had a notion to stay somewhere else after their disagreement. Was that manipulation, she asked herself. If it was, why did she do it? Things with Chrisjen seemed less and less clear lately, and each time they argued, the need to hold onto the other woman became more and more tangible. 

With a sigh, Bobbie walked back out the door and into the cooling evening air. She pulled her dark jacket a little tighter around her. Where was Chrisjen anyway? Searching around the camp, she found most were eating their evening meal. The sight elicited a growl from her stomach. Time for dinner. She looked about. 

Pulling out her comm, she asked her team, "Anyone have eyes on Archangel?" 

She waited. The responses came back. No one had seen her. Telling herself not to jump to conclusions, Bobbie began to walk a grid with purpose, eyes darting around. As she looked, something other than what she was searching for caught her gaze. She stopped to watch. General Darcey was leading the UN officers to the transports. They were all cuffed. Word had gotten around that the Sec-Gen had ordered all of them back to Luna. They may not be responsible for what happened to the people here, but they were certainly complicit and she intended to hold them accountable. Bobbie knew if she had just waited a moment, Chrisjen would have explained her intentions. She never should have doubted Chrisjen's understanding of the situation. 

Moving on with quick steps and becoming anxious, Bobbie came to the edge of the camp. Chrisjen was nowhere. Turning around and around again, Bobbie looked, trying to see everything. With no place left to look, she turned and gazed out toward the open valley. With a deep exhale of relief, she landed on Chrisjen's small form almost a quarter mile out. 

Straightening herself and mentally dismissing the angst of momentarily losing her charge, Bobbie began to walk out to meet her. The gravely ground crunched under her boots. Dusty cloud coverage seemed to make the evening get darker faster. Chrisjen knew better than to wander off on her own. It was one of Bobbie's stipulations. 

As she came closer, the other woman must've heard her footsteps. Chrisjen turned to meet her gaze. She gave a small smile. Bobbie didn't quite return it. She was about to scold the woman for leaving without telling anyone. But when Chrisjen's fingers curled around her upper arm as she stepped beside her, the idea left her mind instantly. 

She froze, keeping still lest any movement cause Chrisjen to let go. They looked out over the valley together. The mountains were snow capped, appearing a yellow-orange against the strange light in the sky. The ground would have been a deep, lush green if it had the light it required. The landscape was holding on, though. It was still a breathtaking sight. 

"You should come eat," Bobbie suggested quietly. 

Chrisjen didn't respond. She only leaned her temple at Bobbie's shoulder, further wrapping her hands around the young woman's bicep. Holding back a smile, Bobbie stayed stoic. If this is what Chrisjen wanted to do, she wasn't going to stop her. In fact, she allowed herself to press ever so slightly into the woman next to her. 

Finally, Chrisjen asked, "It's still beautiful, isn't it?" 

"Of course," Bobbie answered. 

As they looked out, something unexpected, almost shocking happened. The clouds began to part. It took a little time and Bobbie thought she was imagining it. But as the minutes ticked by, it was unmistakable. An opening appeared in the cloud coverage and the sun's rays broke through, covering the valley in golden light. 

Chrisjen's grip tightened around her arm. She let out a light laugh and Bobbie looked at her, smiling openly. Though it was small, the rift was enough to see that bright, blue sky still lay beyond the dusty aftermath of the attack. It opened enough that the sunlight engulfed them. Bobbie's sensitive Martian eyes squinted. She blinked and closed them. The move brought her other senses to life. She felt the sun's sensation on her skin. 

"It's warm," she said quietly. She didn't mean to let the thought slip out. She knew it sounded childish. But something as simple as the sun's warmth always felt like a gift after a lifetime in the cold of her red planet. 

She opened her eyes to find Chrisjen looking at her, beaming. She reflectively returned the smile. Just then, the two of them heard a loud commotion behind them. Turning to look, they saw the entire camp cheering in the sun's direction. They both laughed a little and looked at each other. 

Bobbie's smile faded slowly. She was suddenly struck at how the light played off Chrisjen's toffee toned skin and chestnut eyes. Light flecks of copper color in her irises stared back at Bobbie. The gentle expression on her face was so inviting and Bobbie wanted to kiss her. She could swear Chrisjen wanted to kiss her too, unless she'd imagined the movement of the woman's eyes down to her mouth and back up. Surely she'd imagined it. 

But the sun's light retreated behind the dust once more and they were abandoned in shadow again. Then Chrisjen's smile was gone and they were left watching each other. Bobbie's heart began to race and she doubted the resolve she'd held for so long, thinking that maybe now was the time. Maybe this was the day to throw caution to the wind and tell Chrisjen everything, tell her how she felt, how perfect she thought Chrisjen was, how much she wanted to be with her. The inclination was so real and just as she was about to give in, Chrisjen finally spoke. 

"We should get back." 

Clenching her jaw, Bobbie only nodded tightly. Chrisjen tugged on her arm and she reluctantly followed. Then, Chrisjen let her fingers slip down Bobbie's arm and the next thing she knew, she'd intertwined their fingers. They walked, meandered really, hand in hand, elbows bumping with their close proximity. 

Bobbie liked it. She wanted so much more, but if this is what she could get, this is what she would take. Giving special attention to her sense of touch, Bobbie mentally tried to memorize what the small hand felt like in hers. She only had a short time, though. As they drew closer to the camp, Chrisjen's hand slipped out of hers. 

Bobbie's lips gave a tiny lift as she watched Chrisjen walk back to her people. 

********************

They stayed near Andorra for a few more days. After packing up and leaving Daniel in charge with everything he needed, at least until the next round of aid, the UN's delegation and transport fleet moved on. 

They moved north again, then west, spending days at a time at different camps. It was fascinating to see the similarities and differences in how each refugee camp had set itself up. There always seemed to be a contingent of United Nations soldiers. How they integrated with the civilians varied. Sometimes a steady military order was maintained, organized and efficient. Other places, there was a tension between the military and civilians groups. However, it was nothing like Andorra. They were grateful no other such misconduct was discovered. Some places had the military and civilians completely entwined, working together in every aspect. 

While the generals and aids worked to organize, build, and distribute, Chrisjen spent time bridge building. Bobbie marveled at her constant poise and attention. She shadowed the Secretary-General, staying far enough back that people could get to her, but close enough to intervene if needed. Hands clasped smartly behind her back, the head of security rarely left her sight. 

Each day that passed, Bobbie needed her gravity pills less and less. In fact, she hadn't even had one today. Earth began to feel natural. Well, aside from the dirty air. They had begun to wonder if it was ever going to settle, and if it didn't, that didn't bode well. They had seen the sun exactly one other time after Andorra. Its fleeting warmth was encouraging, nonetheless. Though, Bobbie could tell it worried Chrisjen. 

The morning had come for them to leave the camp they were visiting at the border of France and Switzerland. Bobbie was content to move on. It was cold here. Every time she thought about the cold, however, she couldn't be too annoyed by it. Chrisjen had become increasingly affectionate, often under what Bobbie perceived as a guise of being too cold. 

Each day that passed seemed to open both women up more to the other. They lay next to each other at night, talking about everything past, present, and future. There were times when the closeness was frustrating, causing an ache to pulse through Bobbie. She wanted Chrisjen, badly. What she was doing wasn't healthy for her and it wasn't fair to Chrisjen. On one side, she almost felt like she was using the woman. On the other side, she didn't know how much more she could take. 

Maybe she would finally talk to Chrisjen when they got back to Luna. They only had one more stop to make. Bobbie wondered how much of Chrisjen's openness had to do with her happiness at being on Earth's surface. What if they got back to Luna and everything was one sided again? Maybe she should talk to her while they were on Earth? Bobbie pushed it from her mind. Focus, she told herself. 

Helping to break down their temporary shelters for what seemed like the dozenth time, Bobbie huffed as she lifted the folded up building onto a truck. As she dusted her hands off, Chrisjen came beside her. 

Expression warm, Chrisjen told her, "Everyone is gathering to say goodbye. Walk down with me?" 

Bobbie looked at her with a half grin. As they began to walk, she offered her elbow, knowing the other woman would take the invitation. She relished the feel of Chrisjen's fingers sliding around her crook of her arm. 

They made their way through the fleet of transport ships, many with their cargo doors open as they continued to pack some things and leave others. Chatting easily about their next stop, the two women approached their group. Chrisjen's hand released Bobbie's arm. It didn't bother her. She understood the need for propriety. As the days had gone by, Bobbie became more and more convinced that she wasn't the only one carrying these feelings. Still, she couldn't expect anyone on the outside looking in to understand what was between Chrisjen and herself. So each time Chrisjen let go of her hand, or stepped a respectable distance away from her, Bobbie didn't take offense. 

Coming to the group of UN officers, aid workers, and security agents, Chrisjen began to lead them down to the camp for a formal goodbye to the leadership there. The two factions drew closer, happy looks shared by all. 

However, just as Chrisjen extended her hand, lightning fast movement from the center of the refugee group caught Bobbie's eye. A man began shoving people out of the way. There was a flash of metal in his hand. Gaze widening, everything began to move in slow motion for Bobbie. 

She shouted, "Gun!" 

Everyone began to scramble. The man pushed his way closer to them, yelling for people to move. He looked enraged. Bobbie was behind Chrisjen. She quickly wrapped an arm around the woman's waist. With one strong, fluid movement, she lifted Chrisjen off her feet and swung her back, putting herself between her and the advancing threat. 

Grabbing her pack from her shoulder, Bobbie yanked her weapon out and tossed the bag aside. She was grateful to see her team had done the same. She raised her gun, pointing it at the man without hesitation. 

"Stop right there!" She said firmly and loudly. 

The man lifted his gun, pointing it everywhere, from one agent to the next, observing that he was surrounded. 

He looked at Bobbie, determined. "Get out of my way!" 

"Put your weapon down on the ground," Bobbie said, ignoring him. "Or these agents will drop you."

His eyes flitted from Bobbie to Chrisjen and back again. "She deserves to die!" 

Dismissing his words, Bobbie yelled. "Drop your gun, or I drop you." 

He didn't listen. Instead, angry tears poured out. A sob escaped his throat and his gaze fixed on Chrisjen over Bobbie's shoulder. 

Finally, with a shaky voice, he said, "My son was on the Pizzouza." 

In an instant, everyone understood why he was so upset. Though Bobbie was moved by the admission, knowing this man had lost his son in a senseless military raid, and knowing that Chrisjen's heart was wrenched at the knowledge, she didn't flinch. 

Finger steady on the trigger, she spoke less forcefully. "Sir, I'm sorry for your loss, but you need to put the gun down." 

He simply shouted back, "No!" 

They were left in a standoff Bobbie was confident she and her team would win. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Chrisjen was coming up from behind.

"No ma'am," Bobbie insisted. "Absolutely not." She shifted to keep herself between Chrisjen and the grieving father. There was no way she would let the woman take such a chance. 

"Just let me talk to him," Chrisjen gently requested. 

Tone dark, Bobbie insisted, "You can talk to him from back there." 

Quiet stretched out during which time everyone who didn't have a gun had moved far back. The tension in Bobbie's body was beginning to make her shoulders ache from holding the weapon. She could see her team growing unsure. 

"Steady, everyone," Bobbie said, calmly. 

Chrisjen solemnly called out to the man. "I'm sorry about your son." 

"No!" He shouted again. "You don't get to just apologize."

"Nothing can make up for his loss," Chrisjen said, attempting to reason with him. 

Bobbie noticed the white knuckle on the man's trigger finger, his grip already dangerously tight. 

"Chrisjen," she whispered. "Shut the fuck up." 

"That's true," he said with the slightest shrug. "But I can at least get justice for him." 

Bobbie's eyes widened at the resolve on his face. Suddenly, a loud pop rang out, then another, and another. Bobbie was surprised as some unseen force knocked her backwards. 

At the same time instinctively, she shouted, "Drop him!" She tried to pulled the trigger until she realized she couldn't aim. 

Shots fired all over and the man crumpled to the ground, blood everywhere. The sound seemed strangely far away to Bobbie as her brain registered explosive pain. Somehow she had lost the use of her left shoulder and it fell at her side. Her mind became foggy and sharp agony ripped through her upper body. Going numb, she dropped to her knees.

Then, Chrisjen's voice floated to her from far away. She was shouting Bobbie's name, she thought. Realizing something had made her shirt wet, Bobbie glanced down. 

Her chest was bloody, the red liquid soaking her shirt toward her waist. She put a hand at her chest and gasped at the pain. Finally, it registered - she'd been shot. She turned her head in the direction of Chrisjen's voice. The woman's face looked terrified. General Darcey was pulling her away. 

Breaths becoming short, Bobbie could barely speak. "Get her to the transport." 

Her vision became dark around the edges. Body becoming limp, she fell from her knees to the ground. Bobbie fought to stay awake, trying to force her eyes open. The cold that had plagued her the entire trip returned. Unable to stay conscious against the pain and dizziness, her vision faded and her eyes closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
